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#my sister wants to make DOCUMENTARIES
wastelandhell · 1 year
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brother-emperors · 9 months
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Allow me, if you will, a moment to go absolutely rabid over your blog and everything that goes on here. I’ve always loved history but the USA hardly likes teaching anything that isn’t American History. I’ve forgotten how much I love WORLD history, specifically the rise and fall of empires.
I’ve been smothering myself in your posts and I love it ALL. JC, Pompey, Crassus, Sulla, Octavian, Antony, Cassius, and Brutus. Wow what a mood. You don’t miss on your references or your modern AU’s and I’m over here like- I’m trying to buy whatever web comic you put out, book you write, etc.
Also, if you’d be so kind to list some material with like themes to start breaking into these topics. Preferably materials in English or translated materials.
HELL YEAH LET'S GO
if you really want to start on the ground floor for breaking into something, I'd recommend my personal favorite approach which is picking the figure that's most interesting to you, reading through plutarch's biography on them (free! online! in english!) and then putting their name through a jstor search and reading whatever sounds fun.
other than that, the primary theme I've been wandering around in lately, so these are the materials I've been really enjoyed related to that:
The Deaths of the Republic: Imagery of the Body Politic in Ciceronian Rome, Brian Walters
The Game of Death in Ancient Rome: Arena Sport and Political Suicide, Paul Plass
Ideology in Cold Blood: A Reading of Lucan's Civil War, Shadi Bartsch
Statius and Virgil: The Thebaid and the Reinterpretation of the Aeneid, Randall T. Ganiban
Rome, Blood & Power, Gareth C Sampson
I also have a comparatives tag where I play connect the dots with texts that made my brain go brrr
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milf-harrington · 2 years
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I like fully forgot I only got 4 hours of sleep last night until a few minutes ago when my brain started making up utter nonsense
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wellplacedbanana · 7 months
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In my “I could learn how to do that” era
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sockeyesoren · 7 months
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I used to always wonder what my special interests were and looking for a specific definition, but tbh it's my autism my rules and if you can't mention anything history related without me going on an absolute tangent then I think it's safe to say that's a special interest no???
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augustinewrites · 8 months
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“oh, you poor thing…” you murmur, stroking megumi’s hair. he’d been caught in the rain during the walk home yesterday, and had come down with a bit of a cold. the seven year old is curled up next to you on the couch, his head resting in your lap.
you glare at satoru when he scoffs from his end of the couch, the tip of his nose rosy and dripping with snot. “i was caught in the rain too, you know.”
“take some nyquil.”
you don’t even bother to spare his suffering a glance.
“can i have hot chocolate?” the little brat asks, his request followed by a weak cough. “my throat hurts.”
it’s almost ten in the evening, and the kid’s already brushed his teeth. there’s no way you’d say yes—
“of course! i’ll make some for your sister too.”
satoru’s mouth falls open - because he can’t breathe through his nose and because he’s shocked. “can i have some too?”
“i’ll make you tea with lemon and ginger,” you reply, carefully adjusting megumi on the couch as you get up. you even steal his blanket, draping it over the kid’s curled up form.
megumi peeks one eye open as soon as you leave, and satoru swears the smirk that follows is directed at him.
people have told him that kids are supposed to be gifts. but later - when he’s watching a lame documentary and choking down some bitter lemon ginger tea as megumi is spoiled with sips of chocolately heaven - he thinks they must mean gifts from hell.
_____
your lips are brushing over satoru’s collarbone when he wonders if he’d locked the bedroom door.
but then you bite and all his concerns go out the window.
your breath is hot against his skin, picking up when his hands grip your waist. chests rising and falling, the two of you love in sync. slow, deep kisses are exchanged in time with gentle grinds—
“i’m hungry.”
it makes satoru startle, banging his head against the headboard as you sit up, stuttering as you both turn to face the doorway.
“megumi,” you gasp. “how long have you been standing there?”
the blush colouring his cheeks is answer enough.
“i’ll make you something to eat,” you offer, leaving your boyfriend with a very unfortunate situation as you climb off his lap, shooting an apologetic look over your shoulder as you herd megumi out of the room.
satoru swears the kid shoots him a smug grin over his shoulder.
this, he thinks glumly as he heads to the bathroom to try and calm himself down. this is why he needs to stop doing nice things.
_____
exhausted can’t even begin to describe the way satoru feels after a long day of bugging nanami and exorcising curses.
he’s practically dragging his body through the apartment towards the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to strip out of his uniform and fall into bed next to you.
but he can’t, because the first thing he sees when he opens the bedroom door is megumi hogging his side of the bed.
you press your index finger to your lips as soon as satoru opens his mouth to protest. “tsumiki’s at a sleepover,” you explain.
“so? i’ll carry him back to his room—”
you make a noise if protest, waving his hands away as you whisper, “it’s his first night here without her.”
hands on his hips, satoru examines the very little free space left on the bed. “so that means you’d let me sleep on the couch?”
he doesn’t like sleeping alone. hasn’t liked it ever since you’d moved in and he’d decided he liked waking to the warmth of your body next to his.
“well, you could sleep in megumi’s bed.”
“or you could wake him up,” he counters loudly on purpose, earning a shush and a glare from you in answer.
“this is a good thing,” you insist once you’ve ensured the kid’s still asleep. “it means he trusts us!”
“but i’m tired,” he whines, even stamping his foot a little for emphasis. “i wanna cuddle with you.”
“fine,” you relent with a little sigh. “but you have to wake him.”
gleefully, he goes to shake the kid awake. he’s about to do it, but all it takes is one look at the peaceful look settled over that little face. over the year he’d gotten to know megumi, he’s only ever worn a scowl, or a look of general boredom. so to see him like this, finally settled into the household…
it’s enough to make the sorcerer smile, even as he sets up the makeshift bed of blankets on the bedroom floor.
_____
“sharing is caring,” satoru proposes the next afternoon at the dinner table. it’s just him and megumi right now, as you’d just left to visit shoko. “so you can cuddle with her on the couch, but the bedroom is all me, got it?”
megumi frowns, staring at the list (can he even read yet? gojo has no idea) “but what about movie night?”
“fine, but only for a little bit. after that she’s all mine.”
he takes the kids shrug as agreement and moves on.
“knocking,” he starts with the utmost seriousness. “is a very important thing to do when any door is closed. and next time tsumiki is out, you’re the one sleeping on the floor.”
(they both know that’s not going to happen, but it doesn’t hurt to try.)
once the terms of their deal are finalized, they shake on it.
“so we’ve come to an understanding, good. because i’d rather have you as my bro than my foe,” he says, dragging the edge of his thumbnail across his throat for emphasis.
megumi rolls his eyes before sauntering off to his bedroom, and satoru sighs, letting his forehead hit the tabletop with a dull thud.
he’d fought off suitors vying for your attention before, but never one as tough to beat as this one.
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kimberly-spirits13 · 1 month
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Jason Todd During Your Period
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Sweetest thing
Feels so bad that you feel bad and does anything humanly possible to alleviate the pain
He knows how to handle periods since he has all the batgirls and he had to take care of his mom when he was younger
He’s the kind of boyfriend where you can just be like “hey when is my next period?” And he’d know off the top of his head
Won’t blame you for any outbursts or anything and he tries his best to not annoy you
If you get nightmares or really funky dreams on your period that wake you up, he always wakes up to make sure you’re okay
Becomes a light sleeper during your period in anticipation that you wake up and need something or are basically dying
Specifically ordered you two of those massive heating pads and let’s you lay on top of him with them
One heating pad for the back and one stomach
It’s a miracle tool yall
It’s the kind of thing where you finally get settled and you cry because it’s so amazing
NOT BEING IN PAIN AND BEING ABLE TO SLEEP IS WONDERFUL
He’d feel so bad if that happened though because he’d realize how bad you really felt in the moment
He knew you were struggling but it always hurts him to see you in pain
Stocks up on pain killers
Makes you your favorite food and brings your favorite food home from patrol because let’s be honest
No girl is sleeping on her period without her comfort 🤚
He’ll take as many naps with you as you want and do a spa day
*face mask on and hair mask in* “no Dick I’m not on patrol tonight, I’m busy.” “
Knows exactly what to get at the store if you ask him since he had to get stuff for his mom
Will bring back chocolate or whatever your favorite snack is
Let’s be honest, chocolate gets boring after about a day
Holds you while you’re in pain
Makes sure to call you often when he’s on patrol go check in, especially if you’re benched from patrol for the week because of it
Is mostly calling for himself to make sure you’re not dying or anything
Gets medical advice from Alfred
Is genuinely afraid you’ll become anemic or something if he thinks you’re losing too much blood
You two are experts at getting blood out of things so don’t even worry about it
Let’s you wear all of his clothes and takes up doing the chores since you’re probably bloated and swelling
Kisses your cheek and forehead a lot if you’re not feeling well
Does anything you need to feel better
His guilty pleasure is when you’re on your period and are craving carbs because he really really loves carb loading but can’t do it often
Bagels, pasta, pizza, crackers, cinnamon rolls, anything carb
If you start running a fever he freaks out a bit but has enough experience to know you’re not dying
Puts an ice pack on your forehead and gets advil for you
Stocks up on ice cream if that’s your thing
Excuses himself and you from any galas and makes sure the paparazzi isn’t around
Probably threatens them or something who knows
Has one of his sisters come over to give you company if you need some girl time
If you want to you’ll 100% be welcomed to just sit in the bat cave during patrol and help monitor
The entire week or two is just Jason doting on you more than usual
He’d wrap you in a blanket burrito and carry you everywhere
Is very touchy when you don’t feel well so he latches himself onto you
Movie marathons
I watch Law and Order and lots of crime documentaries when I’m on my period for some reason and he’d 100% binge those
Has fuzzy socks for you
They’re probably funky colorful ones that he thought were funny and got them for you one day to cheer you up
Won’t let you talk bad about yourself
If you call yourself yuck or gross or fat or anything he’d smother you with his entire body
Not today Satan
Praises from him are the best let’s just keep it at that
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undercovercameron · 6 months
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stamina
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summary: you have a tiny bit of an issue that can only be resolved through intercourse. no, really.
notes: hello everybody i have returned after a month and a half and this one just simply popped into my head today! i would say i have no idea why but ive been watching clips of the other zoey on tiktok and they’ve corrupted me… cabin in the woods with drew starkey? till the walls crumble. features: choking kink, explicit language, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, and generally rough sex. enjoy my darlings
tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader
word count: 2859
You don’t know exactly when it started, but your little problem had become a real nuisance.
You just know the first time it happened, however long ago, made Rafe Cameron finally fall in love with you. Hey, it took months of him fighting with himself about you and struggling with a multitude of other family issues, but the day did finally come. It was glorious, you remember that. But this long repeated issue was kind of impeding your sex life. Well, it was affecting your sex life that actually had been affecting your sleep and caffeine and food patterns. It was a big ole circle. You even had been feeling faint due to the excessive cardio.
The issue wasn’t as much an issue as it was one of Rafe’s favorite things about you, turns out. And he wasn’t afraid to show it. Well, make you show it.
You two had dozed on the couch for a little more than an hour, your head pressed to his shoulder and your body curled around the side of his. He had an arm caging you to him, fingers splayed across the curve of your abdomen. Turns out, some documentary his younger sister recommended wasn’t as interesting as you two thought.
The TV makes a loud beeping noise, and Rafe jerks awake at the intrusion. His hand not pressed to your (now exposed) stomach rubs at his eyes, blinking rapidly. Christ. It’s late.
The fire beneath your TV crackles, and he can feel the slight warmth from it on his cheeks.
This was his Aunt Meredith’s house, and she was letting the two of you stay in it for a little while as a makeshift fall break. You’d slept three nights so far in this big wooden mansion, but you could hardly say you felt rested. You always were taking futile catch-up naps throughout the day in front of this lovely fireplace.
Rafe’s movement makes you phase into consciousness, eyes coming into focus as your ears adjust too.
“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, stretching both his hands up above his head. The hem of his shirt lifts, just a little taste. You blink at him. “What?” His face splits into a grin and his eyes close as his muscles flex and relax.
“You know what.” Your lips twitch and you look teasingly up at him.
“Mm, I don’t think I know what you mean.” His hand brushes the hair from the side of your face not facing him, and he pulls away slightly to thumb at your chin. “Could you explain?”
“No,” you sigh, pulling yourself up slightly with a hand pressed to the seat cushions. Your leg curls once again around one of his as you turn towards him. You relax against the back cushions, eyes on his face. “No.” Your eyebrows raise, challenging.
“I don’t think you want me to have to make you explain,” he mutters, sliding down to a little above your eye level. His eyes stay on yours.
“I don’t think you could if you wanted to.” Your eyes snap back to the TV, pulling your legs away from his. “I’m trying to watch this.” You grab the remote from the ottoman and turn it up. Rafe just watches you earnestly.
You're about sixty long seconds into “watching the documentary” with your feet up until you feel Rafe’s breath on you. His lips meet your forehead, ghosting a kiss to your skin, before sliding down to your temple. You try your best to remain focused. But his opposite hand from you (always his hand) slides up your waist to settle near your collarbone, fingers lightly pressing into your shoulder. His lips migrate to your jaw, and then your neck. You fight a shiver.
You feel yourself tilting your head around to satisfy this position, eyes falling closed briefly before snapping back open. You grip his wrist.
“Rafe,” you say, but what you thought was confident just sounds weak.
He hums, mouth pressing to your neck and getting into dangerous hickey territory, and your eyes just close. It feels so good, this man leaving you breathless and pliant. It makes you so weak.
“You know you want to,” Rafe murmurs, eyes moving up to your face, and he relishes in your intake of breath.
Your fingers find his jaw and cheek and you pull his mouth up to yours, finally kissing him like you need. He makes a noise into your mouth, triumphant, and his hands grip your hips tightly. He moves you, sliding you onto the long part of the L sofa, and follows you with his forehead pressed to yours and his lips so close but so far. You pant up into him.
He slides further between your legs, parting them with a hand behind your knee, and you let out a content sigh when you feel the weight of him. The weight of that.
His hand finds your throat and then he’s leaning over you, hips pressed to yours and kissing away your sounds softly. His hips rock forward into where the seam of your sweatpants is, and your moan is swallowed. You grip tight on the hand on your neck, squeezing your eyes tight. It shouldn’t feel this good, this quick.
You cant your hips up into his, sloppily matching his rhythm, and your cheeks flush when your heart beats heavily in your throat. His mouth parts from yours and slides wetly down to your upper chest, the neck of your slightly cropped sweatshirt pushed away. You just gasp above him, hips picking up. The slide of his pants is so perfect on your clit, and you feel your blood pumps at the place he squeezes you around your middle.
You recognize what he’s doing, now. His fingers press into your abdomen, pushing it up and down and up and down, and you push your hand on top of your mouth to muffle the embarrassing cries you’re letting out.
His head raises from your collarbone, lips wet and pink, and he tugs your wrist down.
“I need to hear you, baby.” And then he’s pulling back to shove your sweatpants off of you and to the floor between the couch and the ottoman. He dips back down, mouth and hand insistent upon you, and he digs a hand into the crotch of your underwear. Your hands flail for a moment, useless, and settle on gripping his shoulder and the arm that pins you to the cushions.
“Rafe,” you sputter, head pushing hard back against the cushions. Your hair is messy and probably tangled with this friction, but you don’t have even half a thought to care. “Please, Rafe, don’t stop.” Your back arches, trying to push your body tight against his. He tries not to grin above you, watching your face contort at his touch. His fingers slide in your slickness, an embarrassing amount, and your throat catches a breath. The tension in your abdomen twists.
“I thought you wanted to watch the show, sweetheart.” Two of his fingertips push past your slit easily and curl. He bites his lip above you, loving the look on your face. You squeeze your eyes even harder, fist clenching in his shirt. Your heart beats louder and louder until—
“And we’re going to practice your stamina, too.” His voice is raspy when he pulls away.
There it is. The issue. Your not-so-issue-but-sorta-an-issue issue. Yes. You had been having trouble—well, stopping. Your libido was extremely high, you had a very sexy man at your disposal who liked to please you, you were confident in your body, so why not?
Why not is because your body was sore constantly. Between your legs was the perfect amount of sore, but still sore. You had trouble sleeping and drank more coffee and energy drinks. Rafe, ever the giver, obliged you always. He liked to fuck. He really liked to fuck you. So it was a terrible, terrible cycle. You were really starting to wonder about your self control. So it makes sense that maybe you should consider working on it.
But Rafe deciding that right now? The second he finally fingers you? It makes your head spin.
Literally, as when you sit up your vision is flooded with spots.
“What the fuck?” You croak, sounding miserable, and your eyes look up at him, almost teary. (Hey— you really like what he does to you.)
“You’re fine, baby, you’re fine. I just want what’s best for you.” He pulls away from your neck, instead smoothing a hand from your sternum to your hips.
“What are you, a fucking counselor?” You grump, eyebrows furrowed, and he just rolls his eyes.
“Better start being grateful, Y/N. You know how I get.”
He settles onto his stomach, keeping your legs loose around him as he bends to kiss you. You kiss back, still annoyed but also still wildly turned on, and you can’t help but curl a hand around his neck and up into his hair. His lips part from yours and start their trek downwards.
His hands push your sweatshirt up when he gets to right above your belly button, and his touch is light on your sensitive skin. You close your eyes in the nice feeling.
His fingers curl around where your thigh meets your ass, pressing tight into the muscle, and you reflexively lift them up and settle them down onto his shoulders. Sneaky. His mouth finds your inner thighs then, biting into the flesh, and you successfully fight a shiver. His breath is hot on the crotch of your panties.
His fingers find the hem of the fabric, eyes settling briefly on yours before tugging your panties to the side and getting his mouth on you.
You immediately moan— figures. You push your head up slightly, wanting to see, and his head shakes between your legs, hair tickling your thighs as you whine. So hot it should be illegal.
One of Rafe’s hands crawls up your flesh to your chest, fingers finding the underside of your tit and cupping it. He squeezes right as his tongue curls into your seam and he shakes his head again. You nearly shriek but slap.a hand over your mouth, no punishment in your future with his hand on your tit and the other gripping your outer thigh.
Well, you were wrong for the second time tonight. First, thinking your loving boyfriend would give you an orgasm when you wanted one, and second when you assume the same very boyfriend wouldn’t do things simply to piss you off or edge you. Rafe reaches up with the hand previously on your thigh and grabs your wrist. He snags the other one and presses them tight against your lower abdomen, eyes fiery. Your blood surges hot in your veins and the tension in your abdomen resurfaces.
You just flex your legs and bring them further up, wanting your seemingly increasingly distant misery to end.
He hums in approval at that, the feeling making your pelvis vibrate; and you try desperately to suck in a breath. It feels so good, you don’t know how to last longer. Your head slowly tilts to the side, a little tired, and your glazed eyes meet the TV screen again.
Your third folly. Thinking Rafe Cameron would let you live any mistake down.
“Oh, you wanna watch it now?” He pulls away, spitting at your pussy, and an eyebrow quirks. You just still, not sure of the direction here. “Okay. Watch it.” He licks you once, twice, and pulls away slowly. You turn your head, wanting to gauge his reaction, but he pushes your head back towards the TV with his hand. You see in your peripheral him pushing down the waistband of his pants. Your eyes flinch ever so slightly towards him, and he smacks lightly at your outer thigh.
“Watch it, since you wanted to so bad.” He pulls his dick out from his underwear and spits into his hand. His gaze is locked on your pink face, waiting for you to react. He moves his hand tantalizingly slowly, knowing you can see the movement. You pant, catching your breath, and he just watches your chest heave.
His heart rate catches when he gets the full sight of you, open and wide in front of him with dirty panties and your sweatshirt rucked up to expose your bare chest. It makes him even harder.
“What are they talking about right now?” His eyes bore into the side of your face, hand moving steadily still.
“Uh-h, whales.” Your voice cracks and you swallow. He doesn’t laugh like you think he will, he just bends down and kisses the corner of your mouth.
“Doing so good.” It’s so quiet you think you miss it. He kisses you full on when you tilt up to him, neck straining at the angle.
He finally, finally pushes his weight onto you, dick pressed tight against your pelvis. You meet his mouth again and groan at the feeling, moving your body in a way you hope feels good. His jaw clenches, which is a good sign.
“You do it, you want it so bad,” he murmurs, lips hovering over your cheek bone. “Since you can’t ever have enough, baby.”
You exhale through your nose, concentrating, and push your hand down. You fumble for a second but eventually get your hips angled in a way to where he can sink into you. He does, pushing against your hips, and slides easily all the way to the hilt.
He groans openly, eyes closed for a moment, and you choke on a moan. So deep, so fast that it steals the breath from your throat.
On second thought, Rafe’s hand finds its place on your throat as the other braces against your hip.
“So wet,” he says through his apparent awe, bottom lip drooping slightly. You revel in the look on his face. He’s all pink and dewy, it makes you sweat. He pushes forward, a bruising strength in his hips, and you feel yourself be pushed up an inch on the couch.
He follows you and lowers himself slightly, keeping you in place as he jerks sloppily into you, overwhelmed by sensation. You curl your leg around his waist, fingers interwoven in his hair as he dips to kiss you. He pants into your mouth, hot and demanding. You just arch your back, feeling him squeeze hard at the flesh of your waist as you clench around him.
You do it again, loving the reaction, and bite your lip as he chokes slightly in surprise. His hips slow, the sounds of your hurried panting slowing as well, but he goes twice as hard. With the intent to bruise, you think. Probably. He would love that.
His eyebrow arches slightly before he’s burying his face in your neck and really giving you his all. You feel the muscles flex on his back where you press your hands, mouth open and wide and silent. Your eyes roll back into your head as he lets go of your neck and fixes his grasp on your hip.
“Rafe,” you gasp, barely getting a comprehensible sound out. “Yes, shit, baby.” Your man, finally treating you so well.
“Let me hear you,” he says, hot in your ear, and reaches down to rub that one spot he’s memorized the location of. He’s a little too familiar, as we know.
You inhale and exhale shakily, and then you’re silent and your head is pushing back into the cushions. Your body floods with feeling, from the tip of your toes to the top of your head. Your toes curl. You feel like you’re floating.
It’s on the come down that you moan shakily and it turns into a bashful laugh.
“Fuck,” you whine, and his thrust turns into his last as he buries himself up to the hilt and groans in a staccato. You feel him catch your shoulder slightly as he bites the cushion, muscles slowing.
“Fuck.” He desperately tries to catch his breath. He peels himself slightly from you, sitting up.
His vision comes back into focus, and it’s then that he notices the marks on your neck. He thumbs an especially red one, eyes scanning your face.
“Oops.”
“You’re an idiot.” But you smile.
“Hey, we traded,” he says, pulling away completely from you and standing up with a stumble. He winces as he pushes his shoulder blades to meet.
“How’s that?” You ask, thinking you’re humoring him. You sit up, bringing your now cold and damp panties back to where they should lie and pulling your shirt down. You’re just realizing how cold it is in here.
“My back hurts like a bitch, and you have hickeys. Plus I didn’t let you cum so we practiced that. Boom.” He gestures wildly and lets his hands smack back down to his sides. You just stare at him.
“You are the weirdest motivational coach I’ve ever met, young man.”
“Don’t call me a young man.” He turns towards the primary bedroom you’d been sleeping in and disappears into the darkness. “I fuck like I’m 35.”
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chakkll · 5 months
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Worries, Worries
Mike Schmidt x gender neutral!reader
Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy’s
Synopsis: Mike’s been doing better. He hasn’t dreamed of his brother since Freddy’s and hasn’t needed sleeping pills for almost a week now. Well, at least he thought he was doing better.
Warnings: Post movie, established relationship, fluff
Word count: 1k
*please forgive how short and probably rusty it is, it’s been a minute since i’ve posted!
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Everything’s been good. One might say almost too good.
Mike has been sleeping well, been happier, and been getting along with his sister better, all because of what happened at Freddy’s.
But all this goodness is making Mike nervous. You can feel it.
“You sure you don’t want me to tuck you in?” You call after Abby as she shuffles down the hall, her drawings and crayons tucked into her arm.
A soft “yeah” is all you get in return before you hear Abby’s door shut. You smile to yourself before glancing to the clock.
9:32pm. Mike will be home soon.
Mike asking you to watch over his little sister in the evenings has become part of your schedule. He has Fridays and Saturdays off, but other than that, you’re cooking Abby’s dinner and making sure she gets some sleep, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Some might think it an inconvenience to constantly watch over your boyfriend’s little sister and end up seeing her more than him, but you adore Abby.
Sure, she might not talk very much, but she’s a very creative girl. It’s hard not to like her.
When Mike first introduced you to each other, Abby ignored your greetings and went right back to her room to draw. At first, you were pretty sad about her initial reaction to you and Mike’s relationship, but Mike managed to convince you that her reaction was a positive one.
That was five months ago.
Now, Abby draws next to you instead of in her room and will answer questions about the drawings. Plus, if you catch her in the right mood, she’ll tell you about her friends.
You yawn as you flick through the TV channels until you land on a documentary about seals. You glance to the clock.
9:46pm. Mike will be home soon.
Your eyes drift from the clock to the floor. A rather beaten up book lays half open, a ripped page on display.
You heave yourself off the couch and over to the book. You carefully pick it up and close it to see the cover.
Dream Theory. Interesting.
You flip to the back to read the blurb while walking back to the sofa.
You flop back onto the couch and flip to the first page. The seal documentary plays in the background, the narrator now detailing the wonders of how they hunt.
You prop your head up on the armrest and lay down, reading through the book.
Just as you’re getting invested in the book, you hear the lock unlock. Turning the TV off with a click, you turn around, only to be met with the sight of your exhausted boyfriend. You smile.
“Hey,” You greet as you get up and off the couch to meet him at the door.
Mike nods and grunts a small “Hey, baby.”
“How was work?”
Mike shrugs, and his gaze drifts down to the book in your hand. He blinks.
“You’re reading my book?” He asks curiously, causing you to glance to the book.
“Oh… yeah. Sorry.” You apologize bashfully and hand him the book, resting your other arm at your side.
Mike shakes his head dismissively at your apology. “What d’you think?”
You stare at him blankly. “…What?”
“The book. What do you think of the book? The theory?”
Realization dawns on you. When you see an eager glint in Mike’s eyes, you weakly shrug.
“I mean… I’m not too far in, but it seems interesting.”
A hint of a smile graces Mike’s lips. “So it seems possible.” You nod.
You smile softly at his excitement from your words.
“Anyways…” You wrap your arms around his neck for a hug. “How was work?” You ask again.
His arms loosely wrap around your waist as he buries his head into your neck. “Fine,” He murmurs quietly. “How’s Abby? Did she eat dinner?”
You smile at his worry for his sister. “Yeah. And she drew next to me afterwords.” At your words, you can feel Mike relax.
“She’s been doing better. You’ve been doing better. I can tell.” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest.
“I don’t know about that.” He murmurs dismissively into your shoulder.
You blink, frowning at his words. “What makes you say that? You haven’t dreamt of Garrett since Freddy’s, right?” You pull away from the hug and rest your hands on his shoulders. His hands come to rest on your hips as he sighs softly.
“Well, no…”
“So why do you say that?” You frown softly, bringing a hand to cup his face.
“Just… things have been going smoothly. Almost—almost too smoothly.” Mike mumbles, leaning into your touch as his eyes flutter closed.
You sigh again. “Mike… look at me,” He reluctantly opens his eyes, but his gaze rests on your chin instead of your eyes.
“You’re okay. You have a new job that has pretty okay pay and hours, both Abby and you are happier, and you know what happened to Garrett. Right?”
Mike stubbornly stares at your chin, staying silent.
“So why do you say that, baby?”
“I just…” Mike trails off. “…I’m used to having something to worry about.”
You frown. “What, and there’s nothing to worry about now?”
Mike blinks and slowly looks to your eyes. “…Huh?”
“I don’t mean to make you feel worse, but you still have things to worry about.”
You can see panic rise in Mike’s eyes. “What… what do I have to worry about?”
You smile fondly at your boyfriend.
“You gotta think of a present for me for our six-month anniversary.”
You can practically see the gears turning in the man’s head as he stares at you quizzically. Finally, he cracks a smile.
“…Weird way to comfort me.” He looks away, smiling to himself.
“Yeah, but what else would get you to smile?” Mike rolls his eyes, causing you to chuckle. Your gaze drifts to the kitchen, reminding you that Mike almost never has dinner when he works evenings.
“You didn’t have dinner, right? I’ll make you something.” You start to head to his kitchen to quickly make him something to eat.
“…Wait.” Mike murmurs softly, lightly grabbing your sleeve.
You turn to him curiously, only to see a slightly bashful Mike staring at the floor.
“…Sleep here tonight?”
You can feel yourself smiling. “Of course.”
Mike’s shoulders visibly relax.
“Now, let’s get you something to eat.”
487 notes · View notes
boxofvanishingsenses · 8 months
Text
Movies
- To The Bone
- Perfect Body
- Sharing the Secret
- The Love of Nancy
- Secret Between Friends
- Thinspiration/Starving in Surburbia
- Feed
- The Road Within
- Vincent Wants to Sea
- My Skinny Sister
- Girl Interrupted
- Little Miss Perfect
- Karen Carpenter Story
- Dying to Dance
- Hunger Point
- Kate’s secret
Tv Shows
- Red Band Society
- Make it or Break it
- Glee
- Supersize vs Superskinny
- Starved
- Holly Oaks
- Degrassi
- CSI: The Hunger Artist
- Dr. Phil
Documentaries
- Thin
- Dying to be Thin
- Thin Club
- I’m a Child Anorexic
- Living Sz0
- Extremely Thin Celebrites
- Desperately Hungry Housewives
- A Beautiful Tradegy
- Dying to be Anorexic
- Out of Sight: Invisible ED’s
- Super Slim Me
Books
- Wintergirls
- Elena Vanishing: A Memoir
- Brave Girl Eating
- Unbearable Lightness
- Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia & Bulimia
- How to Disappear Completely
- Diary of an Anorexic Girl
- Being Ana: A Memoir of Anorexia Nervosa
- Beautiful Me
- After the Strawberry
- Letting Ana Go
- Skinny
- Kid Rex
- Second Star to the Right
- My Perfect Little Secret
🎀 lmk which newer ones I should add 🎀
703 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 7 months
Text
The Curveball Part 13 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Molly didn't think life with Bob could get any better. Then their son arrives, and she's proven wrong yet again. She doesn't know what the future holds, but she knows that she wants her family with her for every adventure. And that starts with a trip down a grassy path through some wildflowers.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, swears, pregnancy, smut, 18+
Length: 3900 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)
Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist
Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!
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With the number of times Bob had to field the question, "So how did you and Molly get engaged?" you would have thought he could answer it by now without blushing. But he couldn't. Not even close. 
The only ones who knew what really happened were Nat, Bradley and Molly's sister. Nat kept calling Molly 'a goddamn legend'. Bradley cringed. And Molly's sister just said, "Yeah, that tracks."
But Molly kept those pretty Mrs. Floyd nipple piercings in for him, and he loved her even more for it. Her belly had gotten so big by Valentine's Day, he didn't know how she'd make it all the way to her due date in another four weeks. She looked absolutely exhausted after every shift in the emergency room, and more often than not, she ended up falling asleep on the couch with him after dinner while they watched a murder documentary. 
"Mo," he whispered on Friday night after she fell asleep mostly on top of him on the couch, his big hand splayed over her belly. His son was squirming a bit as he stroked her soft skin. She was incredible. His Molly. They hadn't decided exactly when they were going to get married, but she kept talking about wildflower meadows. So he agreed to wait until the summer, after the baby was born. 
He had to whisper her name a few times before she jolted awake. "Hmm?" she moaned. "Bobby, I was in the middle of a delicious nap." He kissed her lips when she pouted at him. 
"Let's get in bed, Honey," he said softly, pulling her shirt down over her belly. "We have to babysit Ev tomorrow so your sister and Bradley can go out for Valentine's Day."
She smirked at him. "They like to do dirty shit in the Bronco."
Bob just shrugged. "We do dirty stuff in my truck all the time."
She moaned softly as she said, "We sure do, Lieutenant Floyd." Bob's eyes slowly closed as Molly's hand skimmed down his abs and into the waistband on his underwear. "Dirty stuff everywhere. Anything my fiancé wants."
Bob grunted as her small hand wrapped around his cock, and her lips grazed his stubbled jaw. He was getting harder as she stroked him slowly, tongue darting out to taste his neck. "Molly," he moaned, bucking up into her hand as she teased his tip. But she just hummed against him as she jerked him off. And then her hand slowly came to a stop until she was just softly cupping his balls.
And then he heard her soft, even breathing next to his ear, and Bob couldn't help but laugh. She actually fell asleep while she was giving him a handjob. Bob thought for a moment that maybe a less secure man would be insulted, and maybe that's what Molly was used to in the past, but he knew she was beyond tired right now. 
He kissed her forehead and gently eased her hand back out from his underwear. "It's bedtime," he whispered, and she jolted awake again.
"No," she said, shaking her head and trying to reach for his cock. 
"Yes," he replied with a chuckle as he slid out from under her without being too rough with her bump. "Come on, and I'll rub your back until you fall asleep in bed."
"Mmkay," she agreed, bleary eyed as Bob led her to their bedroom. He helped her get undressed, kneeling in front of her and placing some gentle kisses to her belly like he did every night. 
"I love you," he whispered as Molly ran her fingers through his hair. The nightly conversations with his son were something he was definitely going to keep doing after the baby was born. "I can't wait to meet you. We just finished getting your nursery ready. I hope you like baseball, because your Uncle Bradley and I went a little nuts in there."
"That's an understatement," Molly whispered. "They went flipping bananas."
Bob cupped her pretty belly with both of his hands and smiled. "Mommy's right. We did go overboard."
He watched Molly yawn before she said, "It's okay. Everett and Piper will teach him all about baseball." And then she kept yawning, so Bob got her settled into bed with a pillow tucked against her belly. He set his glasses on the nightstand and turned off the lamp. And then he climbed in behind her as the big spoon and kissed the engagement ring she was wearing. 
"You wanna talk about baby names?" he asked, rubbing his hand along her side, because he knew it would make her sleepy.
"I only like a handful of names," she replied, and Bob could hear the pout in her voice even though the room was dark. 
"Come on, Mo. Literally anything except Everett. Your sister will never forgive you."
"Yeah, but my nephew will think it's funny, and that's almost enough motivation for me to do it."
Bob groaned. "What's your second favorite name?"
It took Molly a few moments, but eventually she said, "I want to name him after you."
"Robert Junior?" he said, already shaking his head. "RJ?" He didn't like it at all.
"No. Your middle name. We can call him Charlie," she mumbled, obviously dozing off.
Now Bob smiled as he kissed his sleeping fiancee on the shoulder. "Charlie Floyd."
-----------------------------
Since it wasn't a leap year, Molly knew Bob wasn't really getting a birthday. "Still only eight years old," she told him on February twenty eighth. She was straddling his lap on the couch, but her belly was fucking enormous now and always in the way. He didn't seem to mind though as he gently held her and cradled her and the baby. She kissed down his cheek until she got to his lips. "You look terrible for your age."
Bob burst out laughing. "Thanks, Honey. Hoping the kid gets your genetics."
"Call him by his name," she whispered. 
"Charlie," Bob said with a smile. There was no room left for Charlie to move around too much, but he always seemed to know when Bob was nearby. He was currently squirming so much, Molly was getting heartburn. 
"He just wants his daddy all the time," she said, running her hands slowly over Bob's chest. "I want his daddy all the time, too."
"Yeah?" Bob asked cautiously. It was really difficult to fuck now. Molly was always uncomfortable. But she knew Bob was never going to rush her. So they spent about five minutes getting her propped up on the couch with throw pillows.
"This is a lot of work for you to get some birthday sex, Bobby," she crooned as his erection bumped her repeatedly in the leg while he made sure she was comfortable. 
"It's worth it," he replied as he sank into her warm pussy.
"Oh, yeah... definitely worth it," she agreed, rocking back gently to meet his slow thrusts. It was unhurried and perfect, and Bob's big hands wrapped around to her belly made her feel safe. 
But later that evening, she knew she had to do something she really didn't want to do. "Bob, it's time," she said solemnly as she stood with her jewelry box in both hands. 
"I understand," he whispered, taking it from her and sitting down on their bed. He sighed sadly and watched her pull her shirt over her head followed by her sports bra. And then the pretty Mrs. Floyd piercings had to come out. She almost laughed at the sad look on his face as she put them in her jewelry box and closed the lid.
"They'll be back. I promise."
"I know," he whispered, kissing along both of her breasts and nuzzling her with his nose. She felt like she looked all swollen and misshapen, but he didn't seem to mind as he kissed her everywhere.
-------------------------
"You can't be serious right now," Molly groaned the following night as she nibbled on some pizza. Everyone was out for Bob's fake birthday at the usual restaurant. "You're going to Disney World? Without me?!" she asked Everett.
Bob tried not to laugh as his soon to be nephew looked genuinely upset. "Mom, can we bring Aunt Molly with us?" he whispered.
But Molly just laughed and kissed him. "No, this vacation is for you and your parents. Besides, the baby will be too young this summer. I'll come next time."
"How much longer until the baby comes?" Everett asked her looking at her belly hopefully. "This is taking forever."
"Hopefully just a few more days," Bob supplied, offering Molly more pizza. But she hadn't even finished one slice yet, just sipping some apple juice instead. 
"No," she told him. "I don't feel great today."
Then Bob noticed the ridiculous grin on Everett's face where he sat perched on Bradley's lap. "I got a new dad. I'm getting my very own cousin, and even an Uncle Bob!"
"You're living your best life, my man," Molly told him. "It's like you planned this all out."
But she really didn't look comfortable at all, and Bob knew she was struggling with fatigue now. So he kissed her cheek, insisted on paying for dinner, and started to herd everyone outside. As soon as he opened the passenger side door of his truck and tried to help her in, she started shaking her head. 
"I'm going to throw up," she insisted and started heading for some of the shrubs along the side of the parking lot. "Oh. Oh no."
But she didn't throw up. Her water broke. Bob froze as Molly turned to look at him as she started crying. "I just peed," she whispered.
Then his adrenaline kicked in fully, and he closed the distance to her. "Honey, I think your water broke," he said gently, and she gasped, panic all over her face.
"No," she said, shaking her head more. "I'm not ready."
"I don't think we have much choice," he told her carefully as he guided her back to the truck. Her sister had already left with Bradley and Everett, so he would have to call them once they got to the hospital. But he needed to focus on this first, because Molly was starting to lose it.
"I can't do this. I can't!" she nearly screamed, fighting him as he tried to get her into the truck. Her pink leggings were all wet, and she was scrambling in every direction seemingly at the same time. "I don't want to," she informed him, eyes wide and unsure. 
"I'll be with you the whole time," he whispered, kissing her cheek. He was over prepared. He knew that. But he'd been sending Molly around everywhere with her hospital bag which he had packed for her, and it was currently tucked behind the driver's seat. She was as ready as she was going to be whether she wanted to admit it or not. 
Once he was finally pulling out of the parking lot with Molly successfully buckled in, Bob felt the panic as well, but he tried to keep his cool. Then suddenly Molly clutched at her belly and loudly groaned, "Shit."
"What?!"
"Is that a contraction?" she asked, gripping at the door handle. "Shit! Fucking hurts!"
When they finally got to the hospital, things had gotten worse. He took her in through the emergency room since that was where she worked. Everyone ran out to watch Bob wheel her inside in a wheelchair. She was gripping the arms and looking back up at him like he was absolutely ruining her day by bringing her here. 
"Molly's here!" one of her coworkers yelled.
Molly responded by crying and shouting, "Fuck!" But nobody seemed to think this was unexpected. They just helped Bob along to the elevator and opened all of the necessary doors to get her to the labor and delivery area.
"Thanks," he told them as another nurse let him know he could take Molly into room two. There were new mothers and nurses pushing bassinets around. It was serene. Peaceful. Really one of the loveliest things Bob had ever seen. And he was currently interrupting it by pushing Molly through as she moaned the f-word so loud and so long that nearly everyone was turning to look. 
"It's okay, Honey," he promised as he got her into room number two. 
"No, Bob!" she shouted. "It is fucking not okay! I feel like I pissed myself. I look like I pissed myself. And Charlie fucking hates me, because it hurts so much!"
She was doubled over, holding her belly. The pain on her face as she had a contraction made Bob reach for her instantly. A tear slid down her cheek, and she whimpered. And then the obscenities flowed. 
Bob tried to apologize to all of the nurses as Molly called them 'fucking assfucks', but they didn't seem to mind at all. He did however close the door as her contractions got closer together.
Hours later, after he had called his mom and Molly's sister and told them what was going on, Bob was exhausted. But he knew Molly was much worse off in that department. She was soaked with sweat and was currently glaring at him. 
"I hope you're happy, Bob," she growled, eyes flashing. "Your monster cock did this to me. Lulled me into a false sense of sexual bliss. And then your filthy mega sperm took over, and finished the job."
She looked like she wanted to hurt him, and he had to try very hard not to laugh as he held her hand. "I'm sorry, Mo. I'll never do it again," he promised.
Then she started crying. "You'll never fuck me again?"
"That's not what I meant!" he said quickly, but she was already in tears. And she said the word 'cuntbag' so many times in a row while she pushed that he lost count. 
"I see the baby," the doctor finally announced after what seemed like days. 
"Get it out! Get it fucking out!" Molly screamed, and Bob felt like screaming too. She had such a tight grip on his fingers, he was sure she cracked some bones. 
But when she looked at him, clearly scared, he kissed her sweaty forehead and told her he had never been more impressed by anyone in his entire life. And it was the truth. She looked like she was on the verge of passing out when the doctor announced that it was in fact a boy and gave the time of birth. After Charlie was measured and weighed, one of the nurses placed him in Molly's arms. 
"I don't know what to do," she whispered, carefully holding him against her chest with one arm and stroking his cheek with her fingers. "I don't know what to do." But her gaze was transfixed on their son, and her lips were softly parted in wonder. Bob could already tell that Charlie was the perfect baby. Little puckered lips and eyes that were fighting to stay open against the bright overhead lights. 
"Oh my god," Bob whispered, leaning down to kiss his son. "Molly. He's actually perfect."
Her fingers stroked along his soft skin while Bob held onto one tiny fist. "He actually is."
---------------------------
The only problem with the next few months was that they flew by. All of Bob's aviator friends had covered the pickup truck in yellow and black BABY ON BOARD signs the day they took Charlie home from the hospital. Molly thought it was hilarious, but Bob grumbled as he removed all of them. 
To Molly's extreme annoyance, Charlie seemed to prefer Bradley over all of their other visitors. Everett was overjoyed every time he got to sit with the baby, and her sister was already helping Molly with literally everything under the sun. But it was Bradley who was able to calm Charlie down and get him to fall asleep on his chest. 
"I'm the baby whisperer," he informed everyone every time he had the opportunity. 
"You're Uncle Turd," Molly told him, but Bradley just smiled at her. She couldn't be too mean, because she needed his help. He was the one who was supposed to be distracting Bob for an entire day while Molly got her wedding gift for him finished. 
She wasn't sure what the two men were going to do after the batting cages, but Molly didn't really care. She had approximately seven hours from the time she dropped Charlie off with her sister to the time she had to be back home. The wedding was in a week, the bodice of her dress was sheer lace, and she wanted the tattoo to be perfect. 
After she told her tattoo artist the exact placement she wanted and the colors to use, she sat back in the chair in her bra with her arm over her head. Molly looked down at the stretch marks on her still puffy belly. Instead of talking to Charlie there every night, Bob sat in the nursery for fifteen minutes and chatted while he rocked him to sleep. And then he did any number of sweet or dirty things to her before they fell asleep together for a few precious hours until the baby woke them up. 
But Bob never once made her feel like her weird looking belly was an issue for him. And when she brought it up one night with tears threatening behind her eyes, he told her she was more beautiful than anything he could have ever dreamed up. And Bob never lied. 
"All finished," the artist said, wiping along her skin with a towel one last time and handing her a mirror. 
A big, bold violet. A beautiful, blooming daffodil. And even a small pink rosebud. Bob, Charlie and Bradley. "Looks great."
----------------------------
As soon as Molly showed Bob her tattoo, he wrapped her up in his arms. "Gorgeous, Honey," he said, kissing her before examining it a little closer. He ran his fingers along the colorful carnations that were there for her mom and dad, and when he got to the daffodil that she got for Charlier, his fingers froze. There was a small gap between his flower and their son's flower, and when he looked up at Molly she was smiling. "Is it finished now?" he asked cautiously. 
She just shrugged. "I'm not sure yet."
Bob would never pressure her to have another child with him. He hadn't really expected to get this lucky in life, let alone feel bold enough to hope for anything more. But that little gap gave him butterflies. Charlie was the sweetest baby in the world, and Bob was obsessed with being a dad. It was his favorite thing. And he wouldn't hesitate to list the condo and find a bigger place if Molly wanted to do this all over again. "You just let me know."
"I will, Coach Cute Daddy."
Bob held her close, knowing they needed to get ready for bed soon. Charlie was still notorious for waking them up at three in the morning to eat, even though he was four months old. Molly kept saying he would probably grow out of it soon, but Bob figured his son loved them so much, he wanted them in the nursery with him. 
"Are you ready for Saturday?" he asked, taking his glasses off as Molly climbed into bed.
"Are you asking if I'm ready for the dream wedding that I've spent months planning out? Then yes, I'm ready. All you have to do is show up with the baby, agree to marry me, kiss me, and fuck me. Not all in the wildflower meadow."
Bob kissed along her shoulder as she fell asleep. Molly made him laugh more than he ever had before. And Charlie made him smile more than he ever had before. And by Saturday evening, he'd be married. 
----------------------
"I can't believe my wild child of a baby sister is getting married today."
Molly sighed contentedly and said, "To Bob Floyd. The sweet, shy man of my dreams."
Her sister laughed and added, "I don't think Bob was planning on anything like you happening to him."
Molly scoffed as she picked up her bouquet made entirely of gas station flowers. "Anything like me? You mean getting his world rocked and having a kid after being together less than a year? He's lucky."
"He is," she agreed, kissing Molly's cheek. "Now please explain to me why you are getting married with these cheap flowers when there's literally an entire meadow of multicolored poppies and zinnias growing outside?"
Molly pressed her nose to them. "Because Bob picked them up for me last night, and they're my favorite. The other flowers can learn some respect."
"If you say so," she replied, taking Molly by the hand. "As soon as I can give you away, you are one hundred percent Bob's problem." But she was holding tight to Molly's hand, and it sounded like she was on the verge of tears.
Molly walked outside with her sister and started down the grassy path toward the spot where Bob was holding Charlie in the distance. "I will never stop being your problem. And Bradley's problem by proximity."
"Good," her sister whispered, and Molly smiled at her as she cried a little bit. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
And then they walked toward the setting sun past the most beautiful shades of orange, green and yellow Molly could imagine. And it probably wasn't like other weddings, but the best ones weren't. 
They stopped so Molly could give hugs and kisses to Bob's parents and the rest of his family. And they stopped so she could get a kiss on the forehead from Bradley. "Love you, turd," she whispered. 
"Hey," he said in his raspy voice as she kissed Everett. "You owe me forever for agreeing to coach tee ball with Bob."
"And you owe me forever for letting you marry my sister," she replied easily.
He just nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. We're square."
Molly was laughing as she handed her gas station flowers off to Nat with a hug, and then she was standing in front of Bob and Charlie. 
"Hey, Honey," Bob whispered as she took Charlie from his hands so she could hold him for a bit while he napped. She kissed his soft chubby cheek, and his eyes fluttered open before closing again. 
Then she met Bob's greenish blue eyes, and he was looking at her like that very first day at tee ball, over a year ago. Like he couldn't believe she was giving him the time of day. She took a step closer to him, and said, "Hey, Coach Cute Glasses. Did you remember your allergy pills?"
"A double dose," he promised. "You ready to marry me?"
"Yes."
Molly held Charlie, and Bob wrapped his strong arm around her waist as they turned toward the sunset. The wedding was short, led by John who married her sister and Bradley last September. And as Molly closed her eyes and kissed Bob at the end of the ceremony, the warmth of the summer evening and the scent of wildflowers washed over her. 
The soft nudge of Bob's glasses against her cheek and the way he helped cradle Charlie had Molly leaning in for another kiss. Maybe it would be just the three of them, maybe not. But Molly wanted to take her family on every adventure with her.
"I love you, Cowboy Bob."
Bob smiled and kissed her softly before pressing his lip to Charlie's forehead. "I love you both."
----------------------------
Ahhhh! Thanks for joining Molly, Bob and CHARLIE on this little adventure! I'm sure they will have so many more together. You can always peep more details about them if you read Batting Practice (and maybe some future one-shots)! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing.
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@theamuz
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@katiedid-3
@bradshawsbitch
@beyondthesefourwalls
@je-suis-prest-rachel
@callsign-magnolia
@t-nd-rfoot
@wkndwlff
@eddiemunsonreader
@wintercap89
@the-fever-of-mankind
@yanna-banana
@lovingperfectionsblog
@daisydont-lie
@sappy-seresin
@birdy-bat-writes
@cutelittlefakejourneys
@cottagecori
@fandom-princess-forevermore
@sotalife
@novastories
@xoxabs88xox
@rileyanntoinette
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@greatszu
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@lovingrobertfloyd
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@hobireasns
@wolfquake23
@ohgodnotagainn
@toobouquet
@paintlavillered
@seitmai
@tigermoon3
@noonenuts
@amiets2
358 notes · View notes
siredtoyourlips · 7 months
Text
Chosen ones
Sirius x Remus x Fem!Reader
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Summary~ The aftermath of the war and Y/n Potter daughter of James and Lily Potter and Sister of Harry Potter stayed behind and helped rebuild and heal those who needed help after it, in those two years of staying behind she got closer to Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. What happens when she overhears them talking about something she probably shouldn't have heard?
1.5k words
Warnings~ Small talk about the war, Reader is a nurse, kinda girly ( she wears a skirt), Dirty talk, Threesome, Anal, unprotected sex ( that's a nono), Breading kink ( at the end), James is dead but its still James best friends, kissing, Remus and Sirius kinda fighting over reader, soft sex basically, pet names, my writing, reader got hurt from a belt, Sub!Reader Dom! Remus and Sirius, Kinda begging but not really Reader is about 19-20 and Remus and Sirius are 40.
PSA~ this is never permanently stated but Remus and Sirius are like Lowkey together
Where ever I go there's always eyes glued to me, it's not anything I did per say but its because who I am and the family I was born into.
Two years ago me and my brother defeated the dark lord and the death eaters, they killed friends and family, they ruined our school and traumatized many of us but they didn't take away what was left of our family. We had to make it look like Sirius died so the death eaters would think they had an edge on us, oh were they wrong.
We won and saved people who probably weren't going to be saved like Sirius, Remus, Fred, and Lavender. Every since the war everyone gets along better there's no hateful things said about people with different blood statuses or abilities like there was before.
While Harry went to be an Auror and start his life with Ginny, I stayed behind to help rebuild the castle and help those who were in need, I'm a part-time nurse. I still live with Sirius and Remus or should I say they live with me, I pay the bills but after the war they just wanted to be alone from all the prying eyes and who could blame them. From my parents dying to this day all attention has been on us. It's finally dying down.
Today has been a long day, while so many people are working on building the school there's also so many people getting hurt, I have at least 10 patients a day and today that was tripped. This day is finally ending.
As I walk through the front door I see all the lights off except for one, the living room light. I take my shoes off and walk into the lighted up room and I assume the two men who I've lived with the past two years are on the couch, Remus is wide awake with just a pair of pants on watching some muggle documentary but Sirius is no where to be found .
Remus sees me and waves me over to sit with him, and I do. See the thing is I live with the hottest men ever and it drives me insane especially when they dress like this.
' long day sweetheart?' he asks when I lay my head on his shoulder and I just mumble a 'mhm' and feel him putting a blanket around me. I feel so cozy that I don't realize that I was falling asleep until what I assume is not that later because Remus is watching the same thing but Sirius is on the other side of me rubbing my back, and I feel safe, and I start dozing off again
'how long has she been sleeping?' that's Sirus's voice. ' bout an hour, she fell asleep right after she came home, long day at work'.
'I bet' Sirius mumbles. 'Her short outfits always drives me insane, I swear she does it on purpose' Sirius says and I hear Remus clear his throat before he sits up straight and my head falls and hits his belt. And that's when I really wake up 'ow' I mumble as Remus picks up my head and looks like a deer in headlights, I can tell he feels so bad for moving ' I'm so sorry hunny' he says, clearly tense ' its ok' I say.
Sirius stands up and looks at my head, 'nothing bad love just a little red' he says and takes my hand and says ' lets go to bed, ok?' and I just nod.
They both walk me up stairs and after what I think I heard Sirius say I'm curious as to how Remus feels too so I say, 'can i sleep in your room tonight please?'. and they don't say anything and just open their door and let me come in.
This wasn't a first time thing, I have nightmares frequently and if I don't end up in their bed one or both of them come in mine so I feel more safe after the dream I had. ' How does your head feel' Sirius asks and they both look at my head than at me ' fine, doesn't really hurt at all.
'Im so sorry that you had to wake up to that Y/n'. Remus says and I blurt out ' was kinda awake anyways' rookie mistake Y/n, and they both just look at each other and Sirius asks 'so you heard what we were talking about then?'
I look at him and say 'yeah, didn't mean to but I did' and sirius looked freaked while Remus was the calm one this time. 'Why didn't you say anything' Sirius asks you. 'I dunno, was scared' and they look at each other than back at you 'of what love?' Remus says. You just shrug, you're too tired to do this, so you get up and walk to the door but they both jump right up and stop you sirius closes the door and Remus tilts your head towars him, and with a wave of confidence Remus says 'baby, you gotta tell us what you're thinking' and you do, but have to, theres no way around it. 'I feel that way too' I mumble under my breath and of course they heard it.
'Is that so?' Sirius asks as he walks up to me and picks me up, not giving a single inch of attention to Remus and puts me back on the bed and kisses me without warning. And I let him and if wasn't for Remus yanking Sirius back I don't think the kiss would have ended. It took ten seconds from Sirius kissing me to Remus kissing me.
Remus backs up and just looks at me, his and Sirius's eyes and blown. 'We have to stop, if we don't then I'm going to go all the way' Remus says ' yeah' sirius mumbles.
'I want to go all the way' I say and it doesn't take ten seconds before Sirius's shirt is thrown and I'm laying down with Remus hands going to my shirt taking it off. Then my skirt, and I look over to Sirius and the only thing he has on is his boxers, and you can see how hard he is. Remus now backs up and takes his belt and pants off while Sirius kisses down my neck and reaches his hand down my back and unclips my bra and Remus comes back over and lifts up my ass and takes off my panties.
They both sit back for a minute to look at me, but that miniute ends when Sirius starts rubbing my clit ' that feel good baby, yeah. I bet it does' Sirius whispers into my hear. Remus brings his hand down and starts fingering me. ' shit baby, so tight. How are you ever going to fit me?' he mumbles to himself 'want your cock please' and the second I say that I can tell that they both are about to tackle each other.
Remus stand up and takes his boxers off and out springs the biggest dick I've ever seen. I can't stop staring at it ' you ready baby' Remus says and he lines himself 'mhm' you mumble and he slowly starts stretching you out. And your breath shakes and he notices it ' breath hunny, you got this' and you nod your head and say 'please move' and he does. he goes slow at first but then slowly starts to go faster, and you look over to Sirius who's looking at your tits bouncing, ' want your cock Siri' and he pulls his boxers down and says 'where do you want me baby'
And you think for a second and look at Remus 'please' you say and he looks at you all confused and slows down ' what baby' and you whisper something in his ear and he's grinning ear to ear. He picks you up and walks you around the bed to Sirius and says ' she wants you to take her in her ass' and Sirius doesn't waste a moment before he's going to his drawer and grabbing his lube and making sure it wont hurt as bad
'you ready doll?' he asks and waits for a response ' yeah' and then he very slowly sinks you down on his dick. and slowly starts to move. The faster Remus goes the faster Sirius does and it feels so good. ' OH MY GOD' you moan out. 'Shit' Sirius mumbles as he goes faster and Remus runs your clit ' Shit, fuck DADDY' you scream out and it surprises them both but they don't care who it was directed at, you don't even know who it was at, it doesnt matter.
'Shit, baby you about to cum?' Remus asks and you just nod your head. 'Cum with us sweetheart' Sirius says and you do right before they both cum in you. It felt so good that you blacked out and when you gain control again they're both pulled out and Remus had a warm wet rag against your pussy and ass wiping the mess they made.
'Next time my cum is staying in you baby' Remus says right before you pass out.
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fayes-fics · 5 months
Text
It Had To Be You: Epilogue - Wonderful You
Masterpost PREV | NEXT
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU
Summary: How would you sum up your love story?
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artwork credit @colettebronte
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f) cunnilingus. Err, there is also some swearing and soppy stuff, too.
Word Count: 1.5k
Author's Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. This is the little decorative bow I wanted to wrap up this fic up with. If you've seen the original film, you know there are vox pops between 'chapters' where couples tell their love stories. This is my tribute to/explanation of that in this AU. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. Thank you again for reading this story, I hope you all enjoy this smidge of filth and humour! <3
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When his phone lights up and vibrates on the pillow next to yours for the third time, the name HY flashing bright, you reluctantly realise you have to say something.
You slide one hand down under the covers to shake his shoulder lightly. “Ben…. Ben, your phone…” you stutter, not wanting to do anything to stop the wondrous sensations coursing through your body, but concern overrides your want for pleasure.
“I'm doing some of my best work here, you know…” he protests silkily, muffled against your body, curling his tongue around your clit in a way that makes your knees tremble and goosebumps break out over your limbs.
“Ngggg, fuck, I know you are, baby,” you moan, “but this is the third time it’s ringing, and now you’ve got a big text pop-up saying SOS…” you stumble out.
There is a rustling of sheets, and his handsome face appears, glistening with your arousal in the ray of Mediterranean sun that cuts across the bed. 
“Whoever is interrupting us better have a damn good reason; they all know this is our honeymoon,” he grumbles, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and crawling up over you, pecking a kiss onto the tip of your nose before reaching for his phone. As he does, it starts vibrating in his hand again.
“What?” he answers gruffly, in the way only siblings ever greet each other.
You watch as he pulls a variety of faces that make you giggle, pinned under him, his erection pressed distractingly into your left thigh.
“Hy…,” he groans after a bit, dropping his forehead onto your sternum. “How does any of this constitute an SOS?” he sighs wearily.
You can tell her answer is sarcastic by the strains of voice you hear from the phone as it's pressed against his ear.
“The answer, I'm sure, is yes, we will, and now, will you please leave us alone? We are busy…” he says pointedly. “...That's entirely none of your business,” he adds curtly after a beat.
You can easily surmise she guessed precisely what you are doing, and you chuckle. Benedict tilts his head up and shoots you a laden smirk that has you scraping your nails over the nape of his neck and into his luscious, thick hair, canting your body up into him and mewling softly as a hint.
“I'm hanging up now…” he warns, appearing to do just that as his little sister is midsentence.
“What does she want us to do?” you query, turning your head to kiss the flexing bicep that carries his weight as he tosses his phone aside.
He shuffles lower, his lips closing around your nipple, sucking insistently, making you arch under him and gasp.
“She wants us to appear in some documentary she is making,” he explains laconically, his fingers wrapping around the dip of your waist as his breath ghosts warm over the saliva he left, pursing his lips and blowing gently, watching your areola pucker under his attention.
You are rapidly losing the ability to give a shit in this moment but decide to get a little more information before you succumb. “What sort of documentary?”
“Couples talking to camera about their love story,” he hums, swapping to give your other breast the same wonderful treatment.
“She wants our story?” you frown distractedly, slightly non-plussed, running your fingertips along the play of his back muscles as he moves.
“Oh, come on darling, even you have to admit it reads like a film script,” he chuckles, rubbing the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast. “Twelve years, broken relationships, friends, not friends, both of us being idiots for entirely too long…” he trails off as he begins to wind his way back down your body, dropping hot kisses onto your diaphragm and belly.
“Oi,” you protest weakly, “I was not an idiot; I was merely cautious…”
“Sure, my love, a cautious idiot,” he amends, pushing your thighs open around his shoulders unseen under the sheets.
“Fair point…” you concede before crying out as he once again unfurls that magical tongue.
“How many couples are you interviewing for this?” you ask as Hyacinth fiddles with a microphone that will be out of shot on the coffee table in front of you.
It is three weeks later, and you are sitting on a two-seater sofa in a nondescript warehouse somewhere in Ealing—a digital camera and lots of bright lights trained on you. It all feels slightly unnerving, making you nervously pick at a tiny fleck of lint on your trousers.
“Oh, about ten or twelve, all sorts of ages and backgrounds,” she elucidates, obviously proud of what she is pulling together for her graduate film project.
“Why did you want us?” you inquire, genuinely intrigued.
“Well, your story is bloody fascinating, and I wanted to have at least one love story from my own family,” she explains. “I tried Kate and Anthony, but they bickered the whole time about what the truth of their story is. Then they started the tonsil tennis. It was too weird, even for me,” she shrugs.
“What do you want us to say?” Benedict checks, attempting to smooth his wayward curl of forehead hair that is always there, doing its own thing.
“Just go with the flow. Be truthful. Say whatever comes to mind; we can always go again,” she answers somewhat nebulously, rounding behind the camera as you exchange uncertain looks. “And ACTION!!” she calls suddenly.
“The first time we met, we hated each other,” Benedict begins.
“No,” you immediately interject, “you didn’t hate me; I hated you. The second time we met, you didn't even remember me!” you argue.
“I did, too! I remembered you! I approached you on the train,” he points out. “The third time we met, we became friends,” he smiles, wrapping a hand around your knee and shooting you a loving glance.
“We were friends for a long time,” you adjoin, nodding, before adding honestly, “Aaaaand then we weren't.” 
“And then we fell in love,” Benedict drawls, his tone laden with affection. “Three months later, and we are married!” he holds up his left hand, proudly displaying his shiny new wedding ring.
“It only took three months,” you nod in agreement, then pause, “well… twelve years and three months…”
“We had a really wonderful wedding,” he comments, turning and smiling crookedly at you.
“It really was,” you agree, grinning back.
“It was great. We had a band with salsa dancing,” he explains, leaning into you fractionally.
“Yes, lots of salsa dancing,” you concur, hooking your chin onto his shoulder as he turns his head fully toward you, you matching his little knowing smile, wanting nothing more than to draw him into a kiss.
“Ok… CUT!!” Hyacinth calls.
“What was wrong with that?” he checks, reluctantly peeling his gaze from you to his sister.
“Urgh, you are as bad as Anthony,” she rolls her eyes. “Let's try again, but this time, you know, maybe a bit more story and a shade less mushy?” she suggests.
“Mushy?” Benedict echoes, his brow knitting. “How am I supposed to talk about my wife, the love of my life, and not be ‘mushy’?” he appends with air quotes, as if what he just said casually is not the sweetest thing ever… and makes you want to mount him instantly.
“Y/n, stop eye-fucking my brother,” Hyacinth sighs.
It’s your turn to whip around to her and look indignant. “I am not!”
“Please…” she withers, arching a single eyebrow, and you slouch down a little, realising you are being entirely called out.
“Okay, fine. But tell him to stop doing the same,” you mumble.
“Believe me, I’m trying,” she answers, fiddling with one of the lamps trained on you. “Now okay from the top,” she says. “I liked it until you got to the salsa dancing bit. Please, let's not cover that; it's obviously a trigger topic for both of your hormones,” she eye rolls.
“What do you want us to talk about then?” he shrugs.
“Tell me more about the very first day you met,” she proposes, then circles her finger silently to show she’s recording again. 
“So it's the last day of university in the depths of Scotland, and both of us are driving to London...” he starts.
“Excuse me, I was driving my car to London; you very much hitched a ride,” you interrupt again.
“Please, it was your mum’s car. And you refused to give me a Malteser,” he disputes, pouting at you.
“Really? It's been twelve years. And still with the Malteser thing? You could have brought your own, you know,” you remonstrate logically.
“And you could have tried not to make me crash into a bus shelter, but here we are…,” he argues back, shooting you a sideways look that is all challenge and heat—it makes you want to strip him bare.
You can't help it; you lean in and capture his lips this time.
“For fuck’s sake, not these two as well,” Hyacinth mutters, head slumping into her hands. 
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Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies
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wannaeatramyeon · 6 months
Note
//peeks in here//
I am shyly going to ask if requesting where the reader is Goo’s younger sister and where Samuel somehow gets hired to protect Goo’s younger sister (despite the younger sister knowing some self defense) / the reader falling for Samuel? Would be okay with you? :0 (if that makes any sense-)
If not, that’s totally fine :>
Just thought I’d give it a shot aha-
Sure that's ok with me anon! Sorry for the delay! Man I miss the days before Sammy was fully unhinged.
Samuel Seo x Goo's Younger Sister!Reader: Plushie
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Goo doesn't like this.
The way your eyes widen upon first meeting, the way his linger a moment too long.
If he wasn't busy being out of town, running around like Charles Choi's very well paid dog, he wouldn't need to do this.
But Samuel, with his terrible daddy issues and irrational need to prove himself-
Goo might as well take advantage of it.
"If she misses even a hair on her pretty lil head then I'll cut yours off, ok Samuel?"
"Oppa!"
.
.
Sammy-
(Or Samuel as he likes to be called. Which you learned after you earned a disapproving glare and a correction each time. Good thing his glares have no effect on you and you don't care what he likes.)
- is more patient with you than his haughty and bored expression may suggest.
To your annoyance, it seems that he has taken your Oppa's word to heart and has made it his current life mission to keep you in sight and within reach almost all times.
"What do you like to watch, Sammy?"
As if on reflex, the glare comes. Except it doesn't hold anywhere near as much frostiness as it did in the first couple days. He's still exasperated, but becoming resigned to his unfavourable nickname.
"Nothing."
You're also getting used to his short, curt responses.
If you think about it, It's kind of ridiculous that this man is sitting next to you in your apartment. Very close quarters. Shadowing you for over a week now.
Dressed down. In a hoodie that is at once large and comfy, yet extremely tight in certain areas, and sweatpants. His dress code has gradually loosened. From expensive tailored suits, to casual shirts and chinos, and now to this.
This situation can be read as intimate. Except he's only here because he has to be, and your Oppa doesn't believe you can protect yourself.
(You wanted to tell Goo that he's wrong. He was the one that trained you up, after all. But there's no stopping him once he gets something in his head.)
"You must like to watch something. Action? Thrillers? Comedies? Documentaries?" 
"I prefer to read."
You resist the urge to roll your eyes, "What about when you were a kid? You must like something then."
An inscrutable expression flashes across Samuel's face, his next words come out forced. "Nothing. I couldn’t- didn’t watch anything."
Oh. 
You file that away for another time, maybe when you don't have whatever this wall is between you. If that day ever comes.
That small bit of insight into what sort of boy this man used to be.
Because the likely reasons he couldn’t are either he wasn't allowed to or couldn't afford to, and neither of these are great choices.
You decide to breeze over it. For today. Deciding that Sammy is not the sort of person that would want any sort of sympathy. That he would most likely interpret it as pity.
"Well, let's watch this. It's my fave."
Unfortunately your fave is nothing short of absolute trash.
.
.
Samuel sits silent throughout the full 30 minutes.
At the end, you turn to him and press for his thoughts.
"It's... not bad."
His answer stuns you. You don't hide your expression and receive a small smile in return.
You look at him in a new light.
If someone was to ask either of you when it started, both of you would probably answer this moment was when the fondness started to grow.
.
.
Goo would likely kill him.
Trace a blade along each of his tattoos, dig in and watch the crimson flow.
If Goo knew that Samuel had any sort of anything towards you, Samuel would suffer a fate worse than death.
Still, the close quarters are doing nothing to help his budding interest.
The show was a turning point. From you being Goo's somewhat bratty and annoying sister-
(Goo is extremely bratty and annoying himself, of course it would run in the family.)
- to you being… Well.
You.
A fully formed person in your own right.
Your laughter changes from grating to infectious.
Your questions from prying to simply curious.
Your 'Sammy' from exasperating to endearing.
Even his assigned job to look after you no longer feels like a chore, another chance to nurture his Secret Friend status.
It's enjoyable.
.
.
Your shopping habits test the limit of Samuel's patience.
Your shoes are also testing the limit of your foot arch, but you decide it's worth it to see how long he can bear traipsing after you.
He might be winning this one as he follows you obediently, store after store.
Reaching for his wallet each time you carry an item towards the register. You rebuff him with a wave of your black credit card (technically, your Oppa's black credit card) and Samuel seems to suffer from not being able to perform this act of gallantry.
Offers his opinion even when you don't ask, usually in distaste at something you're looking at. A huff of laughter when you accuse him of being the one with no taste. 
Accuses outright you of being tasteless when you ponder over purchasing an adorable plushie.
Samuel dismisses it. "It's ugly."
"Well it reminds me of you!"
He stills for a moment, shock briefly crossing his face before chuckling. Eyes lighting up with mirth.
And you think 'damn him, he's not ugly at all.'
Annoyed, you return the plushie back to the shelf with force.
You're still petulant as you continue to look around afterwards, and he seems to relish in the way you stomp around heavy footed.
His apology comes hours later, when you're waiting at the food court. In the form of some greasy junk food you demanded in one hand; the plushie you squealed over and he physically recoiled at, in the other.
"To remind you of me," he smirks.
That night, as you lay awake with the plushie in your arms. You also think 'damn it, it does remind you of him.'
And squeeze it tighter to your body.
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littlegreenfag · 6 days
Text
my stance on the queer media tournament is that Paris Is Burning shouldn’t have been included. yes, it’s objectively the most important queer media in the tournament. but it was also the only one that wasn’t a work of fiction. it’s a documentary about real people. one of the women involved was murdered, and the final scene of the film is her sister reacting to the murder. i just don’t think that it can be put up against works of fiction, if that makes any sense. say what you want about any of the other media in the tournament, but Paris Is Burning is objectively the most important. i don’t want to get involved in any discourse, because this isn’t even something there should be discourse about. a woman fucking died.
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thoughtspresso · 9 months
Text
Aqua plans to die.
And his death will be necessary to take Kamiki down.
While the full details of Aqua’s revenge plan isn’t entirely clear to all of us yet, his intention to place himself in danger as he tries to take Kamiki down is a very clear, and very crucial part of the plot that he anticipates.
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Before we can dive into how Aqua is going to achieve his revenge, we need to back up a little bit and understand who he is as a person, how he makes decisions, and what he personally wants.
What is Aqua’s Goal?
From a top-level view, Aqua has a singular emotional goal:
Aqua wishes to take responsibility for the deaths of his mothers.
Aqua/Gorou absolutely believes that after two lives of the same thing, that he was the common denominator. He was the fault his mothers both died, because he was useless and helpless. Had he never been conceived, and more crucially, if his mothers did not have to lie about his existence, they would have both stayed alive. If Gorou’s mom didn’t have to conceal the pregnancy from her parents, or did not have one at all, she would have lived a long life. He believes that perhaps his second chance at life was to save Ai, but he was paralyzed and helpless during her murder. He blames himself for Ai’s death too.
This is a driving force in Aqua’s character, and informs all of his decision making, even to the detriment of his own plans most times. It leads us to his supplementary goal:
Aqua wants to keep the people he loves safe.
Whether it was shielding Ruby from entertainment or making sure she’s in a safe agency with good group members, or Akane not going too far in enacting his revenge plot for him, or Kana from steering clear of a career-ending love scandal, Aqua’s key traumas has led him to feel compelled to take action and do whatever it takes to save people if he had the power to do so.
Here is a breakdown of Aqua’s plans, and some key questions we have to ask about each one.
1. Why make a movie called The 15-Year Lie? And what is “Ai’s true wish”?
I have reason to believe that Ai’s DVD for Aqua would have either been a message about wishing to be loved truly and be hated with full honesty for the person she really was, that she wanted her actual self to be revealed to people. In line with that, I think Aqua’s DVD included Gotanda’s original documentary for the B-Komachi dome event. Which is why Gotanda tried to defend Aqua's decision to reveal her secret in chapter 112, and why in chapter 108 Gotanda says about the script that “this is finally my time to fulfill that promise.”
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2. What does he mean by “using Arima Kana”?
There were theories circulating that the person who texted Frill Shiranui could have been Aqua, trying to get her to encourage Ruby to play the role of Ai in the film. However, that couldn’t be any farther from the truth. As we know, Aqua was saying that Gotanda should “grow up” and understand that the most important thing for a movie is to succeed commercially first before we talk about artistic value. 
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If Aqua had full control over the situation, he would have just straight up casted Akane. After all, that was what he initially proposed, and even contacted her for it despite saying he’ll never have anything to do with her again. What he needed, more than anything, was for the film to succeed commercially. And with the headlining actress no longer (a) the most famous celebrity of their generation, or (b) the heralded genius of their generation, Aqua has no other options.
Except: Arima Kana.
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I think the aspect of him using her or manipulating her is mainly to encourage her publicity activities. He’ll be encouraging her to do well in her work to garner more star power for the movie to really be a success, and for her to help his sister be the perfect lead for the show. He’s also going to bank on the idea that Kana will do things for him because she has a crush on him, which he only realized in Chapter 102 after Mem-cho points it out, that he can pursuade Kana to get out of the way of his revenge plot if necessary to keep her safe or place her in the spotlight to attract people’s attention for the movie.
While unlikely, he might even encourage her to stay on a little longer until Ruby gets to the Dome performance.
Or, and maybe this is my shipping delulu talking, but it can also be that he’ll try to just be around her frequently to garner media attention about their relationship. In this way, keeping her close without actually dating her could serve a dual purpose: get people talking about them and the movie, but also make sure that Kana stays safe and nobody makes a rumor of pairing her up with anybody else.
Lastly, also not super likely but another option could be to convince her to headline the show, and play Ai in Ruby’s stead.
3. Why does Kaburagi say that the film is bordering on illegal?
This is a truly crucial piece to unveiling Aqua’s plot. We know Kaburagi likes producing shows that include good-looking young people, and that seems to be his main strategy for raking in young audiences and cashing out.
So why would he have hesitated, even for a second, on a plan to cast the top talent of this young generation, on the biggest news Japan has been talking about, handed to him by a first-hand source--the son of Ai himself?
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On all accounts, this would have been the perfect formula for a smash success. So why would Kaburagi say things like, “do you have enough evidence”, when everybody already knew about the University student stalker that murdered her? What was so controversial?
Unless, when they said Aqua will play the culprit, they didn’t mean the Ryosuke.
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They meant he was playing Hikaru Kamiki.
Here’s what we know about the film, and what I think Aqua is trying to do:
1. Portray Kamiki in the worst possible way and destroy his reputation.
The 15-Year Lie will be a biopic about Ai’s life from when she was starting out as an idol.  Ai will be portrayed as a poor girl abandoned by her parents, searching for the true meaning of love. We know that this framing will be part of Ai’s characterization because of the scenes where Ruby struggled the most:
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In the search for love, they will show her falling for a young man and talented actor at Theatre Lalalai--that being Hikaru Kamiki. Once he gets Ai pregnant, he abandons her, and she runs off to the countryside to hide from the press. When Ai asked him to come visit her, Kamiki, in wanting to protect his career, attempted to send out a stalker. A few years later, seeing his kids wotagei on social media, he manages to find them again and kill Ai.
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It is a complete and utter character assasination of Hikaru Kamiki, and while revealing Ai as a flawed person, draws for the sympathy of the viewers to love Ai for who she truly is. Which is exactly why Gotanda keeps insisting for Ruby to play the role, even when Aqua and Kaburagi have sensible recommendations for Akane and Frill.
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At that moment, when Ai dies, Aqua will reveal his face, and openly declare that it was his father who orchestrated it all. Then he might even portray his father murdering Ryosuke himself, instead of the suicide that was reported in the media.
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2. Aqua will use himself to bait his father out, and force Kamiki’s hand to kill Aqua.
The main reason why Aqua finds it necessary for the film to be a commercial success is because he needs the general public to be one hundred percent in agreement that Hikaru Kamiki is an evil man that deserves to be jailed. (Whether or not he reveals his name in the film, which he could but doesn’t need to.) This public lynching is his first control.
But here’s the thing: Kamiki didn’t directly murder Himekawa Airi and Hoshino Ai himself. At this point in time, Aqua is not aware of Katayose Yura’s murder either. And there is no evidence that connects Uehara Seijirou and Ryosuke’s suicides as murders by Kamiki’s hands.
And on top of all that, when these things happened, Kamiki was fully a minor.
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Akane’s fears and interpretation was that Aqua would murder his own father because it’s the only form of revenge he could enact himself. 
But she’s wrong, there’s one more thing Aqua could do: make Kamiki commit murder again. If he kills Aqua, there will now be a murder that the public agrees without a doubt was done by Kamiki himself.
He can go to jail once and for all, or he can also get stabbed by an angry fan--Aqua doesn’t care. All he cares about is that it’s a sure win, and it’s over forever. He launches his sister’s career into the spotlight, he keeps everybody safe, and he atones for the death of his mothers with his own life.
In summary: Aqua plans to get killed by his father, so that an actual murder has occurred for which he could be jailed or publicly ostracized or even killed.
And here’s why I think Aqua will fail:
Aqua’s assumptions about his father are incorrect.
He believes that Kamiki’s reason for killing Ai was because her pregnancy would ruin his reputation and career as a rising actor. That’s why Aqua tries to hit him there. And he believes defaming him might provoke him to get killed.
But I don’t think Kamiki cared about his reputation at all anymore. He left his career as an actor behind after Kindaichi kicked him out of Lalalai, and went on to graduate from Faculty of Science. He never went back in front of the spotlight, instead opening a talent agency around the exact time he believed his kids might be joining the industry.
I have reason to believe that Kamiki thinks murdering Airi and Ai was to protect his children or some other great act of justice against his rapist(s). And that even killing Katayose Yura was done because he didn’t want a liar like her to take the spotlight that was supposedly for his daughter Ruby.
I don’t think Kamiki will harm Aqua.
But I do think he will come forward and expose himself and his twisted justification, and he might even openly give interviews to the media.
Instead, I do believe Kamiki might pay attention to Kana’s honest acting--something he’s never seen before in a person, and try to get close to her somehow. And if Kamiki’s name is not revealed, and if the theories are true that Frill works for Kamiki’s agency, he might recruit Kana to join him.
All this is to say, get Kana out of this manga. Somebody, please save her.
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