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#cars fanfiction in 2023?
sunsetelo · 5 months
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Summary: Lightning refuses to talk about his past, but Doc knows he can’t keep running forever.
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holylulusworld · 8 months
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Not in my car - Flufftober 16
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Summary: Dean is not amused finding you and Sam in his car.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: implied smut, implied car sex, fluff, fun, banter, Dean being Dean, love confessions
Trope: Love confessions
Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023
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It all started with a hushed I love you. 
Sam and you ended up in the backseat of Dean’s car after a rough hunt. because you didn’t want to drive to a cheap motel and sleep on scratchy sheets. 
That's why you and Sam shared the backseat and talked for hours. It was the first time you had the time to talk without Dean interrupting your flirty banter with his brother.
The elder hunter ended up going home with the pretty bartender and you, well you tried to make the best out of your time with the younger brother.
“We never talked like that before,” you snuggled in his warm chest, and dreamed of a life you’ll never have. “We should do this more often.”
“Talk, or go on a hunt without my brother,” Sam joked, but there was something else hidden behind his words. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled your hair. “I like being alone with you.
“I love Dean like a brother, but I like being alone with you too, Sam,” you whispered. “Very much.”
“Y/N,” Sam said, “I need to tell you something.”
You lifted your head to look him in the eyes. “What do you want to tell me?”
“I-I love you,” he suddenly spluttered. “I do for a while. I just didn’t know if you felt the same. But I thought I’d take the chance and tell you. If you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. We can just…”
You cupped his face to silence his doubts with your lips. “I love you too, Sam. I was the same. Always afraid to tell you about my feelings. Maybe I should’ve told you earlier.”
“We both should’ve admitted our feelings much sooner but,” Sam claimed your lips in a soft kiss. “We have wasted so much time.”
“Sam, we’ve got tonight,” you whispered lowly. “Who cares about yesterday…”
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“Sammy, Y/N, I’m back and—” Dean frowns deeply. He came back from the bar, without the barkeeper. Dean decided to sleep in his car and forget she left him for some other guy. Now the windows are fogged, and odd noises are coming out of Baby. “Sam…what?” 
He gets his gun out, ready to attack whoever is messing with his car.
As he looks inside the car through the window, he retches.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” the hunter curses, but decides to turn around and forget what he saw. “I’m out of this for good. Sonofabitch.” 
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You roll your eyes as Dean immediately checks his car the moment Sam gets out of Baby. He gets behind the steering wheel and starts the engine. Baby roars to life, and he nods.
“You didn’t wreck my car, that’s a pro,” the hunter grumbles. Dean hates letting someone else drive his car, and he hates the memory of last night even more.
Catching you and his brother having sex in the backseat of his beloved car was the last thing the hunter wanted to see.
“Dean, your brother always drives carefully,” you grumble. “Baby is fine.”
“It’s not about driving,” Dean turns around to look at the backseat. He scrunches up his nose and shudders. Dean didn’t want to say a thing about what he saw last night, but he could not allow anyone to taint his car. “You will clean my car first thing when we are back at the bunker.”
“What? Why?” You gape at Dean.
“You know why.” The hunter gives you a bitch face. “I saw and heard things for nightmares. Sammy and you will clean my baby. And I mean every inch of her!”
Fuck. Dean knows…
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“Sam, I’m tired,” you sigh as you are still busy scrubbing the backseat. “She’s clean. Don’t you think?”
“No, no…sweetheart,” Dean grunts. “You will clean her for a second time. And…no more sex in my car!”
He points at you, followed by a stern look in his brother’s direction.
Sam and you will spend two more hours cleaning the car. At least you can do it together. Every moment you can spend with Sam is precious… 
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seecarrun · 7 months
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Pokeshipping Week 2023
Day 1: First Date
“I just don’t get it,” Ash whines for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. “Why would Brock cancel plans with us just so he could go on some stupid date?”
“Because it’s Brock,” Misty explains with a shrug. “He got a girl to actually say yes to him for once. He had to drop everything and go on the date before she came to her senses.”
Ash snorts, but then immediately pouts once again. “Yeah, but we planned to go to this exhibition match forever ago. You even took off work at the gym! You never take off work anymore.”
“That’s not true!” she insists, as Ash scoffs. “I took off for that ridiculous thing you and Tracy did! With that tangela? You’d still be stuck together if it wasn’t for me.”
Ash looks unimpressed, but he drops it at least for now with a little hum of agreement, and goes back to pouting. “Whatever. I still think it’s stupid he ditched us for a dumb ol’ date.”
Misty rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically. “You would.”
“I would what?”
“Not understand why someone would choose to go on a date rather than watch a pokémon battle?” she explains haughtily. “It’s not like you’ve ever been on a date before.”
“Oh and you have?”
She falters for a brief moment. “Well…No. But—”
“Ha!”
“But!” she says, louder this time to drown him out. “At least I know that dates can be fun and special and it’s worth giving up something to go on one.”
“No date would be worth giving up a Pokémon battle,” he says confidently. Misty rolls her eyes.
Then, she gets an idea.
“Wanna bet?”
Ash blinks at her in surprise. “Huh?”
“Let’s make a bet. You and I will go on a date, and by the end, I bet you’ll admit it was worth missing a Pokemon match over.”
Ash smirks. “And what do I get when I don’t agree?”
“If, in the highly unlikely chance you don’t agree, you… I don’t know. You get the pleasure of going on a date with the world famous Beauty and best Sensational Sister, Misty?”
Ash rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “We’ll work on the prize later,” he says, deadpan, and holds out his hand to shake. “But deal. You’re on.”
Misty grins back and shakes his hand. “Prepare yourself for the time of your life.”
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malina-33 · 9 months
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Single choice
Summary: It’s summer 2022, Nortern Italy, Miles and Alex are on vacation before The Car tour.
And they are happier than ever.
Word count: 3,5k
A/N: I missed the everyday cozy life of their relationship, so I wrote this :) Creative-crisis conversations presented as well, but they don’t take far away from the happy ending. Inspired by "Call me by your name", so for a better atmosphere, I advise you to include this playlist in the background.
Also, English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes, feel free to point them out to me!
Enjoy these two sweeties💕
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The wide shirt's hem fluttered in the warm wind, three buttons at the top were casually undone, and the sleeves were carelessly rolled up to the elbows. Alex, covering his eyes, lay on a soft sun lounger under the shade of the terrace's arches of their small villa in Portofino, stretching out his long legs. His chest rose and fell slowly in sleep, while his hands rested relaxed on the armrests. Silken curls played with the gusts of breeze, but surrendering, they fell onto his face and tickled his nose, causing the man to unconsciously wrinkle it like a child.
Miles couldn't take his eyes off this literally biblical scene. "Taking Al away to the Italian Riviera for two weeks before the tour started was my best decision" the man thought smugly. Only God knew when they would be able to spend such peaceful time alone again, without rushing anywhere and hiding from anyone. And now, leaning against a marble column with his hands folded on his chest, Kane smiled until wrinkles formed around his eyes, unable to believe what he was witnessing. These sprawling palm trees in their backyard, the deafening trills of southern birds, the sweet sea air, and a serene tanned Alex in a milky linen suit, quietly dozing off after lunch - all of this was now accessible only to him, Miles, and he savored every second of this vacation that sometimes seemed surreal, like a calm before the storm. But he persistently pushed away such thoughts, continuing to revel in his own paradise.
They had already spent 10 days here, the first 3 of which they didn't venture beyond their plot on the hill, which offered a breathtaking view of the coast and emerald water. They were lingering in bed for a long time under the biting rays of the sun, plucking mandarins straight from the tree, and listening to vinyl records of Celentano on the veranda in the evenings, intertwining in each other's arms, merging and becoming the one. Then, finally realizing that missing the opportunity to stroll through such picturesque streets would be a crime, they started going out in town under the mountain after the sunset, when the heat subsided and the cicadas began their twilight concert. Every time they ordered a new pasta dish in local restaurants, hoping to try them all, but that was Italy...
In the mornings, they descend to the pebble beach, where Alex could lie for hours, reading books, while Miles were snorkeling in the Ligurian Sea, growing tired of waiting for his lover and retaliating by playfully splashing him with cool droplets. They would play in the water like teenagers, dunking each other or taking turns piggybacking. When the sun would started to scorch their skin, they would go to the local deli for ready-made lasagna with eggplant, always getting a few types of cannoli, new bottle of wine, olives and fruits. They would then retreat to their villa for the rest of the day, either playing the guitar, the only one they brought from their stuffy LA studio, or playing board games (for which Miles constantly called Alex "nonno," while he calmly continued to roll the dice), or falling asleep under the shade of the leafy trees right on the grass.
Miles hadn't laughed so often and so loudly, and more importantly, so genuinely, since their last joint tour. He felt an immense universal joy that was bursting from his chest, causing his cheeks to ache from the ever-present smile on his face. He felt alive next to the dearest and only person who truly understood him, which Alex had been for the past 17 years.
"How have we put up with each other for so long, Milo?" Turner laughed, finishing his glass of semi-sweet red wine.
And Kane replied seriously, capturing his alcohol-glistening gaze: "I no longer know how to live without you, Al."
And it was the absolute truth. They often had conversations like this, but Alex never actually put up with Miles, he did love him. He only put up with being apart from him. And it was always important for both of them to hear this small confession, like a spark of a cricket in the foliage, but a heart-wrenching one, even after a year, or 10, or 20 years of their relationship.
Relationship? Friendship, love, presence by each other's side, support, musical inspirations, passionate desires, care, hurt, forgiveness, kisses, hugs backstage and on stage, touches all over their bodies, eloquent glances, and ending with a single word proposals. That's what their relationship was. And if Miles were offered to never be a musician but to love Alex, he would still agree without any hint of hesitation, somewhere deep inside bitterly realizing that if Alex were faced with such a choice, he would have to think about it.
But at this moment, Miles didn't want to think about it at all, he only wanted to listen to his lover's steady breathing and bask in the fading sunlight with him. Miles walked around the column and silently sat down on the edge of the lounge chair. He lightly ran his hand over Turner's knee, not wanting to disturb, and then traced chiseled fingers slightly higher, along his thigh. However, even these gentle movements made Alex squirm, furrowing his brow and rolling over to the other side.
"Shh, sleep, my dear, I didn't mean to wake you," Miles whispered, soothingly continuing to stroke the man's leg.
"But I'm already awake," mumbled Alex sleepily, opening his eyes and immediately squinting in the bright light.
"What a shame," Kane sang mockingly, secretly delighted by this fact because he had missed Alex during the silence at their villa and mindless wandering through the rooms while he slept in the fresh air, "Will you move over?".
Alex squeezed himself into the corner of the lounge chair, making space as much as the single bed allowed. Miles approached him with a cunning smile, lying on his side, unable to fit his broad shoulders on the mattress even if he was alone, and invitingly opened his palms. Turner simply snorted and muttered something about a smug cat, pressing his back against Miles' contrasting cool chest compared to the scorching heat outside, covering man's hand that rested peacefully on his waist with his own, and intertwining their legs.
"So, you woke me up just to sleep together all cramped up? I don't want to anymore," Alex slowly stroked Miles' wrists, who closed his eyes in pleasure.
"Mmm, I just got bored being alone, you've been sleeping forever!"
"Mi, maybe an hour and a half at most," Turner said in a lecturing tone, turning slightly to give Kane a disapproving look.
"Well, I call that forever. Anyway, since you're already awake, let's think about our plans for the evening," Kane quickly changed the subject, kissing Alex's back of the neck, "I saw a poster for a local concert in the neighboring town. We can rent a scooter to get there, it's just a few kilometers away."
Alex burst out laughing at the last words, turning in his lover's embrace and almost touching noses with him.
"Oh, Kane, you don't even have a driver's license! And the fact that I rode 100 meters on it in a clip means nothing."
"We'll figure it out somehow, it can't be more difficult than tuning a guitar for the first time."
"Well, since I have such an experienced and confident driver, I can't deny myself the pleasure," Turner teased, pouting his lips and furrowing his brows like a college girl.
"Gosh, how cheap that sounds, Al. Those are second-rate tricks from middle school. Did I teach you to flirt like that?" Miles rolled his eyes, hiding a smile in the corners of his mouth.
"No, I think we just fucked right away," Alex retorted, immediately receiving a playful jab in the ribs, "Hey! Am I lying?"
"Do I need to remind you who first put his knee between my legs in the dressing room, huh?" Miles smirked, tucking Alex's overgrown locks behind his ear and stroking his slightly stubbled cheek. He looked angelically peaceful now, despite his unholy words.
"And do you regret it?" Seeing the silent denial, he continued, "Well, neither do I. So you don't need to teach me how to flirt, maestro. If we want to find a free scooter before sunset, we need to start getting ready. I was also planning to take a shower," Alex casually mentioned, slyly avoiding eye contact and running his hand suggestively along Miles' waist.
"Well, that's better already, at least the hints are subtler, but you've lost your touch. I'll have to remind you."
"Oi, you better do it indeed" Turner whispered in his ear. Honestly, he was amused at how they, two grown adults, were behaving as soon as intimacy was mentioned - it was like they were back in 10th grade of the school.
Once he calmed down, he reluctantly slipped out of the warm embrace and gracefully got up from the sun lounger, stretching and rising on tiptoes to better loosen his stiff limbs. Miles settled himself more comfortably, royally occupying the vacant spot and propping his head on his hand, watching Turner's toned body with a hungry gaze. He could do this for hours, knowing every mole, wrinkle, and scar.
"What are you looking at? Trying to find gray hairs?" Unable to withstand his scrutinizing eyes, the frontman softly spoke. Now he had his hands in the pockets, exposing his face to the sun and wind, which cautiously peeked onto the veranda through massive columns. Somewhere far below, the sound of the waves and children's laughter could be heard. Idyllic.
"It's too early for you to worry about that. I just can't get enough of looking at you. Clearly, this lifestyle suits you well, even though I fattened you up a bit, considering you were all skin and bones when you arrived."
"Afraid of breaking me?"
"I am," Miles admitted, not completely sure if he interpreted the question correctly. Turner smiled disarmingingly, the way he only smiled at him, leaned in, still keeping his hands in pockets, and planted a chaste kiss on the man's forehead before disappearing through the door.
"Catch up, or I'll manage without you," Alex said over the shoulder, fully aware that he wouldn't be able to handle anything without Miles. Not in life, not in the shower.
***
Comparing guitar tuning and riding a scooter turned out to be inappropriate, as Miles pointed out rather immodestly, getting behind the wheel, because the second one was elementary. During their short ride along the coast, Alex couldn't stop capturing breathtaking views with his vintage Canon. The peach-colored waves gently licked the shore, competing with each other for ownership of every stone on the beach, while the numerous bushes along the road swayed in the wind.
The neighboring town turned out to be Santa-Margherita-Ligure, welcoming the men with the warm glow of lights strung between each café and the loud Italian laughter that didn't quiet down until late at night. Leaving their mean of transport on the waterfront, they headed towards the main square, where light jazz melodies could already be heard. Ordinary chairs stood right on the historical cobblestones, occupying almost all the space, and a small mobile stage had been set up in the center, where musicians were tuning their instruments.
Taking seats in the corner of the front row, the men waited for the performance to begin.
"Have you forgotten what it's like to be on the other side of the stage?" Miles whispered, his lips almost touching Alex's ear.
"Sometimes I even prefer it here," Turner sadly smiled, "no obligations, masks, rehearsed lines, or unjustified expectations. You just exist in the music without thinking about how to reproduce it. I miss that."
Kane anxiously studied Alex's face from the side, trying to understand if he was speaking in a state of creative melancholy inspired by the upcoming concert or if he was simply revealing his deep pain that had burdened him all this time.
"Hey, I didn't mean to put you into existential ponderings. We can talk about it if it really bothers you, but not now. I purposely brought you here to relax and spend these last days with an empty mind, not to reflect on one careless question"
Miles didn't condemn him, but rather tried to hide his own anxiety behind a feigned admonition. He gently squeezed Alex's hand, caressing his knuckles with his thumb, and warmly smiled, knowing that this was the only support he could offer in public.
"Sorry-sorry-sorry," Alex babbled, running his hands forcefully over his face and organizing his thoughts, "forget about those words, we'll come back to it another time. You can hit me if I utter another sad-philosophical phrase that upsets you tonight."
Miles only laughed at that, patting his friend's knee, and, unable to resist, left an unnoticed kiss on his cheek, indicating that he would never fulfill his request in their lifetime.
Lost in conversations, they hadn't noticed that all the chairs had been taken and the band on stage was counting down seconds until the performance began, tightly gripping their bows in their hands. The increasingly suspenseful sound of the violin filled the entire square, eliciting sudden shivers from the audience and instantly isolating them from the rest of the world. Alex's full attention was now focused on the five people on stage, the sound that seemed to exist right in his head, and the melting night air. Rarely could he simply enjoy the melody without trying to dissect it into notes or analyze the lyrics.
Miles usually smoothed out the crease between his eyebrows that arose from such contemplation with a kiss, and he was ready to do it now, but as his gaze slid across the side of the face, he unexpectedly saw a serene smile on partially open lips. Turner leaned back in his chair, holding his hands between his thighs and slightly covering his eyes, which indicated his complete absence in our reality and his presence in his own, understood only by him and undoubtedly bringing him pleasure.
The concert lasted only an hour, not abundant in a wide repertoire. Towards the end, young men and women, children, and even racy grandmothers and grandfathers stood up from their seats to dance right in the square, laughing loudly at their clumsiness. Alex and Miles only watched this scene with warm smiles, tapping their feet rhythmically on the stone pavement, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention to themselves. The clock on the tower, located on the western side of the square, as was customary in all ancient city planning laws, struck 10 o'clock exactly at the moment when the musicians, in the heat of the final chord, sharply raised their bows towards the pitch-black sky, ending the performance. The square drowned in applause and whistling, evoking familiar motives from men's careers.
The air intoxicated their heads, and not wanting to return back so early, they turned into the depths of the city. Turner continued to photograph the local architecture and Miles against its backdrop with mocking skill, not allowing the camera to hang peacefully on his chest for more than two minutes. And when tourists would disappear from their sight, Kane with the agility of a cheetah would press Alex against the nearest wall of another you-know-who-lived-in-this-house-you-lustful-bastard building, pulling him into a tempting kiss and, despite all protests about his indifference to history, smiled contentedly on his lips, feeling Alex pull him closer by the collar of his leopard-print shirt.
They would laugh drunkenly, without drinking a glass, immediately receiving Italian curses from open balconies in response. They would play tag on narrow streets, after which they breathed heavily, resting their elbows on thr knees and joking about their advanced age. They would eat mango ice cream, licking the sweet drips from each other's fingers, and would never stop thinking for a moment about how lucky they are to be loved here and now.
***
They returned to the villa at midnight, exhausted from their long walk, hastily discarding their sticky clothes as they collapsed onto the unmade bed. Alex, resting his chin on Miles' chest, looked at him with such devoted eyes that Miles' heart skipped a beat at the impossibility of resisting those bottomless depths. In the moonlight, his sharp features softened, Alex's fingers gently tracing along the line of his jaw, while a warm smile lingered beneath his closed eyelids, etching itself into Miles' memory with fiery strokes.
"Mi, are you asleep?" Alex asked in a barely audible voice, listening to the rhythm of Miles' heartbeat beneath his cheek.
"No," Miles replied just as softly, shifting slightly on the crisp sheets to find a more comfortable position.
"Do you remember what I told you today about not feeling freedom in music?" Alex continued, as if afraid to disturb his own thoughts, "well, I realized just now that I'm the one closing myself off from it. But you know when? When you're not here. I'm tired of pretending to be someone else without you, tired of feeling not myself without you. And today, there on the square, when you were holding my hand, it hit me that since we met, no one else has come this close to me. You were and still are the only person who truly knows me. Can you imagine?" His voice broke into a hoarse laughter that, truth be told, sounded hauntingly beautiful in the peaceful silence.
"No one really knows me except for you. And I've been afraid to show my true self to anyone but you. But today, for the first time in a long while, I was able to listen to music without thinking about anything else but your fingers on my hands. And I realized," he paused, unconsciously gripping Miles' shoulder tighter, "I realized that I can perform on stage, just thinking about your hands, and then I won't have to try to hide behind a fabricated image to entertain the audience. Damn it, at 36 years old, I've come to the realization that I can simply sing without pouring my own problems into the songs, but instead, just give people the sound. A sound that resonates in their minds, in their feet and hands, a sound that makes them feel alive. I can make at least one of their days truly happy, just like you make my life happy simply by being with me."
Throughout this entire time, Miles never removed his nimble fingers from Alex's head, combing through his hair and soothing him. He could listen to his voice forever, automatically arranging the words into lines for new songs. The sight of Alex — until it stole the air from his lungs, until it brought tears to his eyes, until his pulse faltered in his veins, until a volcano of warmth erupted in his chest. Until he feels alive again.
"Al, if you haven't realized in 20 years of performing what you do for the lives of everyone who attends your concerts, then I'm going to have to enlighten you now," Miles chuckled softly, continuing to massage his head, "everything you've done for the industry is your way of existing in this world. You don't know any other ways, and that's your strength, not weakness. Your music is literally you, it's not about trends or fan requests. It's about how you communicate with others. You have an incredible gift of conveying intangible values through your lyrics. I have no idea how the gears in your mind work, but damn it, you're exceptional. And I swear, anyone who has ever heard any of your songs has pondered the words, thought about what you wanted to say, and ultimately thought about themselves. Your music has meaning, it's not just a string of letters for the sake of rhyme. It's a dictionary of your life. And since the day we first met, I've been carefully studying all your meanings and embodiments, so my music is about you and for you. You are my only inspiration, and if all you need to write a new song is a notebook and an image in your mind, then all I need is you by my side."
Miles may have wanted to add something more, but unable to bear the weight of such declarations of love, Alex impatiently kissed him, exhaling loudly from the fulfillment of a desire that had been building throughout his entire speech. Kane, quickly finding another activity for his tongue besides talking, trailed it along Alex's lower lip, feeling every crack from the salty water.
Alex smiled like a child, whispering 'I lovelovelove you' into his man's lips, continuously running palms along his cheeks. They continued to gaze at each other for a long time, carrying on a quiet conversation interrupted by occasional kisses, shivers down the spine, and tearful thank yous for everything. Even the stars, cautiously peering through the open windows, blushed at their whispers under the thin blanket. Only with the first rays of sunlight, when words ran out and lips swelled from endless contact, men finally fall asleep in a tangle of intertwined arms and legs.
And if Alex were offered to never be a musician but to love Miles, he would without hesitation write a song about it. Because it would be meaningless to confront the person with a choice who made it 17 years ago.
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A/N: I sincerely want to believe that this is how everything really happened for them. All in all, these two deserve a happy ending. I will be incredibly happy if you leave feedback after reading! Everything that was born in my head would very much like to find a response in you💔🥺
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sam-loves-seb · 8 months
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we got time (but we're only human)
“What happened?” he asks carefully. Mickey works his jaw, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but no sound comes out. “Hey. It’s okay,” Lip tells him gently. He puts a hand on Mickey’s shoulder, his grip firm. “Just tell me what happened.” Mickey shakes his head and looks away. “It came out of nowhere.”
// post-canon: ian and mickey are in an accident
whumptober 2023 -- day 8
prompt: overcrowded ER
[ ao3 | ko-fi | etc ]
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moregraceful · 6 months
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tagged by @lemondropbois and @kitnita and @lovethygoalie!! I love having so many writer mutuals from such diverse points of fandom. I wasn't gonna do this because I am under a severe writing deadline however I am also so deeply frustrated right now that a nice meme may cheer me up. or make me worse. unclear
wip title game rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.
not posting everything in my wip folder bc most of my wips need to get moved to the superhell (abandoned) folder, i just haven't been able to bring myself to do it. also i have talked about some of these before so i may not share a snippet if i haven't added anything to it since the last time i did this. here's what i have read and pondered in the past 5 months:
bergy buster love
jamie tyler robbers and cowards
kaapo alexis k'andre
mario brent trade (<- boba au)
miro jrob everything
roope jani water and power plot
shak nikita
Untitled Document
big fan of descriptive google doc titles. I decided my birthday/new year's resolution is to not use any song lyrics as titles 😤
soft tagging whoever wants to do it!
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offtay · 9 months
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THE power couple 😍🔥
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sucrosette · 5 months
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★— ⋆。˚ [Things Missed]
For Day 26 of Carry on Countdown 23, Angst @carryon-countdown
Basil's finally ready to talk about the accident and Simon's there to listen, of course he is, he's not about to walk away.
Rated T for themes, language, & trauma talk.
This is part four of the Nurse/Lawyer AU. Just one more to go - I hope you enjoy. 🖤 [Part 1][Part 2][Part 3]
⋆。˚ BAZ
Some days, I really miss the hours spent feeling my fingers stretched over the neck of my violin, plucking swiftly over the strings. I miss the feeling of the bowstrings reverberating noise under my strokes, the effortful, emotive playing that pushed me to sweat with effort. I even miss sitting my chin over the chinrest and just holding position in anticipation of playing.
I can still play, beautifully even, but I’m not the soloist I once was. I might have been playing sonatas in music halls across all of Europe at one point. I was good enough, I was more than good enough. I can’t do that now.
I usually manage ten to fifteen minutes before my bow hand starts shaking and my neck’s screaming for relief. Oh, there are workarounds, sure. I’ve tried the extended neck braces that eliminate the need for the chin rest. I’ve used the mobility bows that have the wrist straps, removing the need for my grip entirely. It’s just not the same though.
I had fifteen years of playing before the accident happened. It was a lifetime of habits I had needed to unlearn and repackage and… it’s not that I couldn’t have gotten to my old skill level with enough time, enough practice, but… I started to hate playing. I don’t want to hate playing, but every time I’d fuck up a simple chord progression or hit a note wrong or fumble due to relearning, that feeling would surge up inside of me. My body still wanted to play the way it knew best, and I still wanted to let it, and every time that urge clashed with the need to relearn it would put me back a whole day, sometimes more.
It hit a point where even just thinking about practicing would make me nauseous and angry, so I just stopped. I don’t want to hate playing. I love my violin. I focused on my physical therapy instead. I went to therapy. I got to the point where I am now and I changed course.
I switched to law school.
I cried a week over the decision and I had to speedrun undergrad but overall I’m better for it. I don’t hate my grandfather’s violin every time I look at it. I don’t feel frustrated just existing in a room with it. I don’t get jealous of other violinists who play half as well as I do for having just the slightest mobility advantage over me.
I can hold my bow again, position my violin and play my heart out for a full ten minutes without dropping anything or shaking and botching my play. I might not be able to do some of the more complicated pieces I once did, but what I can play, I play perfectly, just the way I remember, just the way I like. For ten whole minutes, it’s like I’m no different than I ever was, and I find that beauty I make in music and let my violin sing for me. She’s my oldest friend. I can’t hate her.
When Simon first hears me play, it’s a bit of an accident. I don’t really play for people anymore, since I can’t play long and sometimes I have to conclude a piece early when I start to feel my body react, so of course it’s a bit of an accident. It’s just my sisters I play for when I play for people now. Otherwise, it’s just me. I play alone and let myself have my memories of what once was and I put her down to reminisce another day. We share a peaceful relationship, an old friendship, but it’s not something I feel most people particularly need to witness. I aim to play alone.
It’s not that Simon doesn’t know I still play, he does, I’ve told him. Besides, she’s seen the violin, she’s seen me rosin the bow and tune my instrument. She got me a custom rosin case for it for my birthday, the very first we’d spent together— Simon is more than aware that I still play.
it just feels intimate in a way I haven’t quite been ready to share. Fifty-fifty odds I’ll cry at the end, or even halfway through. I like Simon seeing me strong, confident, and maybe a little cocky. I’ve been vulnerable, of course, I met him freshly stabbed and all, but this is a different thing.
So it’s a bit of an accident. Simon's been stateside for a friend’s wedding— she’d been her best mate in school— and I’m not expecting him home that day, let alone these ten minutes of the day I’ve chosen to play. I could've gone to the wedding with him, but I thought maybe meeting someone the week of their wedding might be a bit presumptive of me, especially with our relationship being fairly recent. Besides, the caseload at work’s been busy and I’d’ve had to fly separately, Simon's invested in his tickets an era ago and I don’t particularly want to fly over the Atlantic alone. I’ve offered to take Penny and her husband-to-be on a cruise together at some later date and we can get to know each other then, when they’re not so busy with pre-wedding and during-wedding and post-wedding.
Simon tumbles through the door about two minutes after I’ve started but I don’t hear him. He’s still at the door when I finish. Thirteen minutes later. I can feel my hand aching a little but my neck’s doing alright, so I’ll take that as a good day. I blink over at Simon, realizing he’s really there as I carefully settle my violin back into her stand.
“You play beautifully,” Simon says as she closes the door, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
I blink back the way ears in my eyes. It takes me a minute to find my words, but I shake my head to tell him that he hadn’t. I find my confidence and breath and ultimately find it’s not uncomfortable for me to have Simon seeing me play. That’s a relief. Unsurprising, ultimately, but no less a relief. “You’re early?”
“Ah, yeah,” Simon answers as she kicks off her shoes. I’m already moving to help with his bags while he explains, “Pen’s already on honeymoon and originally I’d wanted to stay over to see some sights but I just missed you so I checked to see if I could catch an earlier flight and here I am.” She does a silly little wave of her hands and it makes me impossibly bloody fond.
“You missed me that much?” There’s a touch of teasing there and Simon punches my arm for it, but he doesn’t use any strength to do it, and just sort of scrunches his nose in annoyance.
“Of bloody course I did, you prick. It’s been a whole week already…”
I hum as I follow Simon to our room, helping him unpack when we get there. I pause to nudge his side and when he turns my way I catch him in a kiss. “I missed you too.”
It’s an easy admission. “Of course you did,” Simon says it like it’s obvious.
it is obvious.
We work through unpacking him in relative silence, a companionable quiet that tells me both how tired he is and how happy he is just to be home. I’ll ask him all about everything after he’s gotten some sleep in him, reset properly from the jetlag over some food. I’m just as happy to have Simon home again too. I missed existing with her the last week.
“I’ll let you hear me play again,” I say apropos of nothing, except I can still hear those words in my head. You play beautifully.
I know I do. Or I knew I did.
The declaration stops Simon midway from tossing his dirty wash in our hamper, but only for a moment. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, whenever I play next.” It’ll be tomorrow. I play almost every day, so long as it’s not a snow day.
“I’d like that,” He answers with a soft smile, “I’d like it a lot.”
I love this about Simon. He’s just so bloody understanding. I don’t understand how he doesn’t press or complicate or assume anything. We just finish getting through his unpacking and collapse into our bed and cuddle close.
I think he’s fallen asleep already when his voice catches me off guard, but maybe I’d been the one closer to sleep. “Are you gonna tell me about it?”
“Not tonight,” I know exactly what he means without asking, “But soon, probably. After you tell me all about how the wedding went.”
Simon hums and snuggles in closer and I melt around him, letting myself relax with him, letting myself feel how much I missed him. I can feel Simon melting in my arms too. I’m too tired for anything else, he’s too tired for anything else, and it’s so bloody easy for us to fall asleep like that, tangled up in one another.
⋆。˚ SIMON
He doesn’t tell me the next morning, not after all the talking I can manage on Pen’s ceremony and dress and everything. It’s a lazy morning. He called in to work from home (“No court days?” “No court days.”) and we slept in and stayed in bed hours longer and I still had three whole more days off work. I’m not in any rush to find out, I’m just happy I’ve gotten to hear him play now.
I ramble on and on about the States and everything that I’d missed about home and weird little language differences and all the things Pen had gone on about herself during our downtime. I think Baz might know her better than he thinks with how much I talk about her, but I’m not mad he didn’t come with me. I just missed him.
I don’t ask. I don’t need to ask. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.
I’m happy to linger in lazy mornings like this forever, if he’ll be here with me for them.
⋆。˚ BAZ
I keep thinking I’m going to tell her, and then I don’t. I keep thinking I should bring it up, but then I don’t. It’s just such a bloody happy day and I’m such a greedy, selfish sap. I want to keep it a happy day. We deserve more happy, lazy days.
I do play my violin for him, just like I’d said I would. I only just make it through about eight minutes today, but Simon smiles so beautifully for such a simple piece.
I’m going to tell him, I know it, just not today. Today I want to keep his smile just like it was when he woke up, refreshed and comfortable after a week out of our bed. I want to keep her just like this forever.
⋆。˚ SIMON
It’s about two weeks later when Basil wakes up in a cold sweat next to me. It’s not the first time I’ve witnessed his night terrors, we’ve lived together far too long by now for me not to be at least a little familiar with them, but normally he goes through the motions quickly enough that I barely have time to comfort at all. This time must’ve been particularly visceral. I sit up beside him and he still hasn’t budged an inch, except to curl in on himself. I touch carefully, brushing my fingers through his thick, dark hair, brushing his bangs aside so they don’t stick to his sweat-slick skin and hum.
I hum whatever he’d played me last. Something by Bach, I think, but I’m not good at classical music. I am learning, a little, but I still can’t tell Beethoven from the Greatest Showman and apparently the latter is a musical, not a classical composition. I’m learning. Baz smiles whenever I get something right.
He unwinds enough to roll himself over and into my arms and I wrap him up like I’m a security blanket made just for him.
“Bloody nightmares…” His voice comes out in rasp, dry and angry, but I don’t push, I just hold him like that until he stops shaking, until his breathing settles out against my chest.
I glance at the clock. Twelve more hours till work. I can nap after this all settles if I need more sleep. I have time. “Think you can sleep again?” I ask it as gently as I can manage.
Baz shakes his head against my chest, but it’s alright, I just keep humming while he sinks deeper into my arms and the tangle of blankets around us. If there was less time, I’d even call out, but there’s plenty of time.
“I think I want to talk about it.”
⋆。˚ BAZ
I’ve surprised him, I can tell. His mouth is doing that little ‘oh’ thing that she only does when she’s caught off guard. Maybe that’s fair, I haven’t talked about for long enough that maybe she was never truly expecting me to, but I have wanted to.
⋆。˚ SIMON
He presses a kiss to the hollow of my throat and it brings me back to my senses enough to encourage him to keep going. “If you’re ready.”
Basil hums again and nods along, “I’m ready.”
I press a kiss to his temple and wait. I have time. I can always wait where Baz is concerned, but he doesn’t make me wait long. It spills out in chunks, but I fill in the blanks well enough. Trauma’s like that, I know, sometimes memories just don’t come back clean.
⋆。˚ BAZ
I was twenty when it happened. It was winter break and I was driving back home for the holidays.  The road had been slick from the storm but it was only a four hour drive, a little longer if I went easy, and I always go easy when I need to. So I’m headed home and thinking about what to get my sisters in the meanwhile and not at all worried about the process of getting there.
Of course, it was never me I had to worry about. A truck twice the size of my little Beetle comes hurtling down the opposite side of the road at a good twice my speed. It must’ve started hydroplaning at the exact right moment to cause him to swerve right into me.
There’s no time to react, no time to brake or swerve or anything at all.
There’s only the truck’s blinding headlights on a collision course straight for me.
I can still feel the hear the sound of the metal crunching together in front of me. I can still feel the pressure of the airbag going off against my face, against my hands. The way my arm had hit the center dash and turned blue almost immediately. The whiplash from my head flinging back so suddenly, the wrongness in my neck.
Simon’s petting through my hair as he listens to me, taking everything in, kissing my forehead again, and then pulling back enough to pull my hands up to kiss them too. She’s patient through it all and it’s not until the lull in my story that I realize I’ve been crying. Just a little. Just quietly while I go through it.
I lose myself in the realization for a moment, thoughts dissipating into nothing. I’m not sure where I was in the story, or where to pick up, it’s just all sort of a blur anyway. I let myself have my tears about and Simon, my sweet Simon, kisses my tears away and holds me closer through it.
“Is that what your nightmares are about?” Simon asks when my tears start to slow and I’ve worked myself further out of that ball of stress.
“No,” I answer, and it feels a bit silly, but also not at all. “My nightmares are… they’re about the first time I picked up my grandfather’s violin, after I’d supposedly healed enough to try again, and I dropped it.”
⋆。˚ SIMON
Baz chokes when he confesses it, loses his voice halfway through the word dropped, but his mouth still forms the word it. My skill in lipreading fills in that blank too. “You don’t have to say more if you don’t want to, you know. It’s okay to be done talking.”
He hums low and shifts our hold so he’s more holding me now, wrapping his legs around mine and practically clinging. I don’t bother to resist. I don’t mind comforting him like this either. It’s plenty comfortable in Baz’s arms too.
“I don’t think there’s much else to say,” Baz breathes out when he finds his voice again, “If there is I can’t recall right now.”
I nuzzle his chest and tangle us up that much more thoroughly. “It’s alright, love… if you want to talk more later, I’m always here for you, alright?”
“Alright.”
“I love you.”
⋆。˚ BAZ
Simon quiets in my arms after that and I can feel my exhaustion creeping up again. I press a kiss to her temple and let my thoughts drift away from my nightmares, from my spotty memories, from the little Volvo I had once loved so much. I suppose it saved my life that day, gave it’s own for me. If cars have souls, I hope it's thriving somewhere.
I let myself drift to thoughts of Simon, of our life. Of the time we’ve had together so far, of the time we’re going to have together. I think of his soft hair and softer marshmallow scent. I thought it was a perfume or cologne at first, but no. That’s just Simon, sugary sweet.
“Hey, Simon?”
She murmurs her own soft, unintelligible acknowledgment against my chest and I can tell from the weight of him that she’s drifting back off already.
“Thank you,” I say into the mess of her hair and she makes a happy little noise. Her own of course, anytime, always, without the mess of words. She makes me so bloody soft, so bloody comfortable. “I love you too.”
Simon’s little noise repeats itself and I can feel a smile crack my lips, just a little bit even after all the emotions thinking about the accident can give me.
“Rest well, love,” my words fall soft and Simon’s already gone, and I think I can manage the same. I think, probably, without dreaming terrible things all over again.
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cars-cause-why-not · 8 months
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I'm Fine (Cars Whumptober 2023)
decided to post one of my Cars Whumptober one shots here
Summary: Darrell wakes up from a nightmare and Bob comforts him
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The dream started the same way every time. It was the middle of June in 2000, the second race at Darlington. It was sweltering 96 degrees, meaning it would be about 116 inside the car. The stands were starting to fill with thousands of fans, excited for a day full of speed, crashes and roaring engines.
The race started out how it always did. He started in 14th but as the laps went on, he passed racer after racer. About halfway through the race, he was now 6th. He could see Strip and Dale Sr at the front battling it out with Chick right behind them. His crew chief's voice rang out through his helmet, telling him their next move.
As the red and black #8 of Dale Jr moved to the inside lane, Darrell stepped on the gas, moved the #17 upward and passed relatively new racer with ease. He then passed Billy Oilchanger when he went too high. Now he was in 4th place, just behind Strip, Dale Sr, and Chick.
"Be careful with Chick Darrell, you don't know what he could do." his crew chief warned.
"Yeah, I know."
A few seconds passed, Chick moved the bright green #86 towards the outside wall in an attempt to pass a certain black Monte Carlo with the #3 in front of him. Darrell then pressed on the gas and accelerated, getting closer and closer to the Dinoco blue #43 in front of him.
"Darrell, look out!" his crew chief's voice cut through the air with alarm.
Darrell turned his head slightly to see the bright green 86 sliding towards him. Chick's car hit the passenger side of his car, sending him sliding off the track and into the grass towards the inside wall. Darrell tried to get his car under control, but to no avail. All of a sudden, the car hit a groove in the grass, sending it airborne. The car hit the inside wall and began rolling until it came to a stop a few yards away upside down.
The caution lights came on as the camera focused on the smoking remains of the #17. Track officials and paramedics quickly made their way towards the wreck to help the driver. Since Darrell hadn't let his window net down, it was a sign that he was unconscious or injured.
The last thing Darrell was aware of was the panicked voice of his crew chief calling his name before he fell into darkness...
-------
Darrell's eyes flew open as he gasped harshly and sat up quickly. He quickly took a few deep breaths in order to calm down his rapidly beating heart. After a few minutes, he had gotten his breathing and heartbeat under control. He looked around and saw that he was in his bedroom in North Carolina and not the track at Darlington.
The ex-racer sighed as he buried his face in his hands. He had been through many crashes in his 23 years of racing, but the one at Darlington had been the worst. Not just because of the injuries but because it proved to be his final race. And he didn't even get to finish it.
"Darrell, you ok hon?"
Darrell was snapped out of his brooding by the calming voice of his boyfriend. He turned his head and saw Bob had woken up and was looking at him with concerned blue-green eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine Bob." Darrell said quickly as he turned away from his lover/co-worker. He then felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Don't do that Darrell, don't push me away." Bob said, "Tell me what's wrong."
Darrell turned back towards Bob and his brown eyes met with his boyfriend's. Bob's hand cupped the left side of Darrell's face. Darrell sighed as he knew he couldn't hide anything from Bob. There was something about the racing commentator that made him want to pour his heart out.
"I...had that dream again..." Darrell finally said as his eyes looked down, "About the race...at Darlington..."
Silence blanketed the two commentators for a few minutes before Bob spoke up again.
"C'mere." Bob pulled the ex-racer into his embrace and leaned back against the pillows with Darrell's head resting on his shoulder. He ran one hand over Darrell's graying reddish-brown hair and traced one of his right fingers over a scar on Darrell's arm that ran from his shoulder to his elbow.
Darrell sighed as he melted into his lover's arms. Bob always knew how to make him feel better. It was nights like these that made him forgot about all the bad memories and wrecks.
"I love you Bob."
"I love you too Darrell..."
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dreamertrilogys · 1 year
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CRAZY HOW THESE ALMOSTS ARE ALL CAR-RELATED. CRAZY HOW CARS ARE THE #1 CAUSE OF DEATH FOR CHILDREN IN CANADA & OTHER PLACES. CRAZY HOW WE AS A SOCIETY VIEW CAR ACCIDENTS AS COMMONPLACE INERADICABLE INCIDENTS RATHER THAN AVOIDABLE EVENTS SUCH AS PLANE CRASHES
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sunsetelo · 6 months
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Summary:
Lightning suddenly becomes quiet and withdrawn. Everyone in Radiator Springs can’t seem to get through to him.
Luckily Doc knows how to get the kid talking.
Or
Lightning struggles with his past and can’t seem to accept that he has a home and a family that loves him.
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Proxima
She was struck by car.
I don't remember the details but she has been comatose ever since. The doctors were unsure as to when she'd awake or if she'd awake at all. In my mind, memories were replaying. They say, in the final throes of life, one's life flashes before them but, in my case, this happened by proxy. For me, it was the memories of the what came before the accident and her coma.
Before this, we were talking about stars. It was pretty late at night and she was pointing them out, before pointing out one in particular. She directed her telescope towards it. I told her simply that the star's name is "Proxima" . It was new knowledge to her that the stars in the cosmos have names and she'd contemplate the names if only for a moment. It was a small moment, seemingly insignificant, but it was something that made the accident worse.
That was four months and two nights ago. The hospital seemed to have become a second home, more or less. The others thought I was in the denial stage of grief because her recovery prospects looked so grim. I knew many things and, while I'm not well-versed in medicine, I do know that doctors aren't always correct. From my observations, she seemed to be aware of what was around her but they think I'm insane. I refused to leave the hospital because I refused to leave her alone.
Where am I?
The first thing I knew is that I got hit by a car going at about 50mph and then the next thing I know is that I'm little again but I'm in a world of stars. I don't know how little again I became but I was little enough as to where I had my sleeves almost cover my hands and I was with Dad again in this star world. I asked him where we were but he told me "We're in the Inbetween, Ryuuko." I asked him how long I was in the Inbetween, he told me about four months.
He told me he was looking after me here and said that, the longer I stay, I couldn't go back. In that moment, I told him I missed him and Senketsu and how I was doing before all of this. I was getting weepy at it all. I was stuck, to be honest. I could stay here and go with Dad but I felt like I couldn't and I didn't know why.
He would tell me why and that he had something to show me. She showed me what was going on while I was in the hospital. Sats had a bed right next to mine and she was looking really rough. Her hair was messy, she had them dark circles, and she seemed to be shaking. She was talking to me.....
The doctor emphasized that it had been about four months and that, if she shows no signs of recovery, then life support will have be discontinued. I told them that I refuse to stop her life support. That night I was begging her to wake up.
She was crying now. I tried to talk to her but Dad told me that she couldn't hear me. It was quiet aside from Sats in the background. He told me that I could go back and that I couldn't do both. "If you don't wake up, then you leave the Inbetween but you come with me. If you wake up, then you leave the Inbetween to go back to Earth." he told me.
I didn't really understand and he told me more. "This place is called the 'Inbetween' because your between life and death." I wasn't dead, yet, but I wasn't really alive. I could choose to not go back to Earth or I could choose to go be with Dad and Senketsu, either way, I'm saying "Goodbye, for now." to someone.
"Choose wisely, Ryuuko."
They've given me two and a half weeks for her to start showing signs of becoming conscious, otherwise, I'd have to let her go. Was I really going to lose her? No, I refused to believe that. She couldn't leave me like this. No, if she had to die, she'd go kicking and screaming, fighting until the very end. I was begging harder, telling her we needed her, and sharing the night about the stars, about the Proxima star. As hard as it was to believe, I was in tears. I begged her to wake up and stay with me.
"Sats shouldn't be crying, Dad." I told him, my tears turning into stars. He told me I could go back and stay with Sats. He reminded me that he couldn't come with me but he's been looking after me these last four months. I told him he left me and Sats many years ago and he told me he was sorry for how things turned out. 
 "Either choice you make will have you leaving the Inbetween, but where you go and who you go home to, is a matter of how. People don't stay in the Inbetween for too long." he told me.
I wasn't so sure of what to do but I couldn't just leave Sats, so I just asked Dad to play with me again, just one more time.
The next day, I noticed tears coming down her face. I didn't bother telling the doctors this, as every little twitch she made, but I did keep talking to her. I told her I missed her. I told her that I was sorry for any wrongdoings, meaningful or petty. I told her that I just wanted my sister back. I found myself seizing her hand, telling her that I loved her.
I was playing with Dad for a li'l while before he started to disappear into stardust and I started to grow back up. He asked me if I chose what I wanted to do. By now, I was sure and he told me, "Then it's time for you to go." I told him that I didn't want to leave him but he told me that I'll be alright and that he'll see me again some other time.
He took my hand and, while I was still little, started walking me to the light, like he did when he dropped me off at boarding those years ago.
The doctors were bewildered, wondering as to how she could be showing signs of improvement after so long. Of course, I didn't tell anyone that part of her wasn't human but that was irrelevant, she was starting to wakeup and return to us.
We got to the light at the end of the Inbetween, and Dad was almost gone, just his hand holding mine. I was almost bigger but I was still little. He told me, "This is as far as I go with you."  I told him I'll miss him and he told me he'll miss me, too, but we'll see each other again when it's time. As I was going into the light, he told me to send his love to Sats.
One morning, in a week before the deadline, I heard her voice. Her eyes were open and she was blinking, looking around until her eyes found me. I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me but I was wrong when I felt her hand tighten around mine. She was like a newborn, practically, except she could talk. She sputtered just a bit before looking at me, tears in her eyes, saying, "Dad says 'Hi'. He loves you."
That night, as she sat in her wheelchair, while looking through the telescope, she pointed out (as she could) the stars, saying, "I saw that one on my first time in the Inbetween before I saw Dad."
I was floored, almost blubbering. We had so much to catch up on again but I found myself in bittersweet tears. For now, I've had my sister back.
The star she motioned towards was Proxima.
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malina-33 · 10 months
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reddieweek · 1 year
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Ben Hanscom, Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Additional Tags: Job Swap, Stanley Uris Lives Summary:
A literal job swap. Neither are super happy about it.
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imwetforyourmom · 1 month
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༺ hi! ༻
welcome to my blog, here you’ll find fanfiction, random yapping, complaints about needing one of the (sturniolo) triplets but not being able to have him and other things. requests are open!!
I write for the triplets and madison beer, I also only post fics or story wise on tuesdays and thursdays at 3:30pm, time zone is alaska daylight time (idk yall I googled it and thats what it said)
im in the age group of 12-14, so if you’re uncomfy reading my writing, then either block or click off my page please!!
my discord is ‘dominic.fikee’ and my yapping account is @imwetforyourdad
༺ navigation ༻
taglist, masterlist, upcoming works and rules
༺ about me ༻
༻ i love, love loveee gut wrenching angst, always has been and always will be my favorite thing ever. ༺
༻ my name is molly, but you can call me molls or moll, idrc!༺
༻ ive been on tumblr since mid nov in 2023, but have been writing since april of 2023. ༺
༻ I am open to talking about EDs, sh and anything along the lines of that if you ever need to vent :)) ༺
༻ ive been watching the triplets since the beginning of 2023 ༺
༻ im pennsylvanian ༺
༺ what I like/favorite things ༻
༻ my favorite colors are green, pink and orange!! ༺
༻ favorite movies are hotel trannsylvania, fast and furious tokyo drift, gran turismo and brave ༺
༻ I absolutely adoree frogs and jellyfish, they’re my favorite animals!! ༺
༻ artists I like are frank ocean, faye webster, the nhbd, SZA, megan thee stallion, madison beer, j. cole, clairo and others ༺
༻ im actually a huge fan of cars, dodge challengers, hellcats. cars are my go-to but I know nothing about them, lmao ༺
༻ the youtubers I watch are brittany broski, larray, tarayummy, imbrandonfarris, jake webber, johnnie guilbert, sam and colby, sturniolo triplets (duh), courtreezy and benoftheweek ༺
༻ I love, love loveee making themes for tumblr or wtv!! so feel absolutely free to send in asks for one of the triplets and a certain color and ill reply w a theme!! (but pls give me credits)༺
(lmk if i should add anything more to this list and stuff, idk)
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justlemmeadoreyou · 9 months
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This is the collection of everything I've ever posted! It's not too good, but I hope you like it anyways!
Please don't interact with my writing if you're not above 18. You can interact with me, talk to me if you want, but you shouldn't be here if you're under 18.
I TAKE REQUESTS! There are a bunch of them in my inbox as well, and I try to write them as soon as I can! But please don't do that thing where you send the same thing to multiple writers--it is kinda off-putting for me.
I would love for anyone to like/comment on/reblog my posts. Everyu interaction is much, much appreciated, and hey, it helps us grow. It's free-supporting people who write here. So please, do what you can!
searchable tags: #harry styles fanfiction for all original posts. (to filter out the reblogs) #ask for all asks in my inbox
Please don't repost or translate any of my works anywhere. Any support in the form of likes and reblogs is truly, madly, deeply appreciated!
Here's my ko-fi for any tips you would like to give me!
Hope you have a great day! 🫶
updated on: 19/5
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HOLIDAY FICS 2023 [8]
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HEADCANONS
jealous!harry headcanons
boyfriend!harry headcanons
boyfriend!harry headcanons (another one 🙈)
dad's best friend!harry headcanons
mean!friends with benefits!harry headcanons
harry in love
grumpy!harry headcanons (mechanicrry universe)
husband!harry headcanons (explicit version)
secret relationship with 1D harry (headcanons)
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《《 SERIES》》
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Secret Little Rendevous | (co-worker!harry x reader) [COMPLETE SERIES]
In which you are in a friends-with-benefits relationship than Harry, and it gets messier as you go forward. (Not your typical enemies to lovers fic)
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
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Unfulfilled | (nerd!harry x reader)
in which you and harry are (friendly) academic rivals, and things change
part 1
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A Chrome Connection | (grumpy!harry x sunshine!reader)
In which you are in desperate need of some car-fixing(and a place to live in) and you find Harry, a grumpy mechanic who supposedly dosen't care about people around him. But, will he melt when he finds a broken girl crying in her car on a cold Thanksgiving night?
a misfortune - part 1
windfall - part 2
melancholia - part 3
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Hopelessly Devoted to You | (lawyer!harry x reader)
In which Y/n just wants to leave her abusive husband, and Harry is hopelessly devoted to her
Part-1 Part-2 Part-3 Part-4
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Sweet Creature | (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)
you landed your dream job as a line cook at Harry Styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.
part 1 part 2 part 3
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《LONG ONE SHOTS》
An Eternal Embarce* (hades!harry x persephone!y/n)
in which persephone is back after 6 months, and the underworld blossoms once again. tensions arise too, but there is nothing that the king of underworld and queen of sspring can't handle together [Word Count: 7k]
Just the two of us -vday check in
Serendipity*
harry meets you at the most unexpected of places, and helps you like a knight in a wedding suit. it all starts at your best friend's wedding, where you find yourself in a predicament without an escort. as panic sets in, harry appears, sent by the groom's brother to fill in as your last-minute companion. from that moment, a serendipitous connection begins to bloom between you both. [Word Count: 5k]
Solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n) part 2
harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it? [Word Count: 11.6 k]
Rain-Kissed* (footballer!harry x nerd!y/n)
y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining [Word Count: 6.1 k]
Intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)
harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension? [Word Count: 6k]
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《ONE SHOT/BLURBS》
SMUT
hot n' hard*
you and harry are at the pool for some fun, and you both rile each other up throughout. you both end up fucking at the edge of the pool and your exhibitionism kink has never been fueled so good.
thigh riding*
you playfully tease harry and, let's just say, it does not go well
don't stop
riding harry with your hands tied behind your back
breeding kink-blurb*
harry sees you around kids on a Christmas dinner, and he's obsessed with giving you his own
cupidity*
"don't make me take you home and punish you"
his* (jealousrry blowjob blurb)
harry is jealous, primal and dominant tonight, and you have never been so turned on
temporary fix*
in which a stranger at a bar becomes your good night (inspired by temporary fix by 1D (duh))
three knuckle deep*(aka fingering blurb)
in which you break harry's rule, and there are consequences
curves*
a plus-size!y/n fic
good girl*
straight up filth, sex w/ harry
euphoria*
soft dom!harry while his girl sucks on his cock
near the fireplace*
sex near the fireplace after a christmas dinner
a new year, a new beginning*
new years with harry's family, followed by some love making
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FLUFF
drunk harry
in which harry is drunk, and you are trying to take care of the cutie pie
drunk y/n
in which you have a test the next day, and you find refuge in drinking and harry
addicted
about Harry’s addiction of kissing you
vexed
in which you are burnt out, and Harry comes to your rescue, in cute pajamas, with cookies and hot chocolate
tranquility
inspired by harry's pics of him swimming in the ocean
here for you
a fluffy period blurb, ft. pillow fights and kisses!
baby
boyfriend!h takes care of pregnant!reader, with a lot of fluffy cuteness. the baby kicks for the first time, and harry is overjoyed.
cuddles
ft. harry being cuddly and clingy
late-night serenades
you play guitar, but harry dosen’t know that. one night, you can't sleep, and harry's guitar looks quite tempting
breakfast in bed
in which harry wants to bring you breakfast in bed, but you have woken up. thankfully, he is cute and you're smitten
hold on to me
(trumpet player!harry x clarinet player!reader) you're both off to college after a while, and it's your last time playing together. feelings are comnfessed, and promises are made.
a christmas with harry
your first christmas with harry at his home, surrounded by his family and friends
dance with me
in which you and harry are at a friend's wedding, and you really don't know how to dance
thanksgiving
coming from a place where thanksgiving isn't celebrated, harry is more than happy to show you
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ANGST
trepidation
in which you are too busy for the relationship, and he feels you slipping away.
insecure * requisite(part 2)*(SMUT)
in which harry feels insecure, because you want to keep your relationship a secret. ft: fluff, angst, dirty talk
waiting * for you(part 2)
a 6 month anniversary date turns into broken promises and doubts over your love
disconnected*
first time sex with harry, which leads to misunderstandings, miscommunication and insecurities
requests are open!!!
(*-> smut)
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blurb night concepts
21/4
divider and header by @/saradika
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