#taking this as a sign to get more unlocks for them 8'-)

[radiotrophicfungi]

BLINKIE REQUESTS #9 . . . JACOB & ESAU!

Requested by this lovely anon! And introducing the most controversial blinkie ever created with the last one HAHA.

#tboi #the binding of isaac #blinkie #blinkies #page decoration #page decor #old web #old internet #taking this as a sign to get more unlocks for them 8'-) #jacob and esau #jacob & esau #request #tainted jacob #dark esau #photo #I TRY TO DO REQUESTS FROM AROUND EARLIEST TO LATEST. BUT YOU HIT ME IN THE TBOI AUTISM BRAIN #flashing lights

[whorekneecentral]

Your Pick

Fernando Alonso x Fem!Reader

Warnings: pr!reader, a bit of an age gap (reader is mid twenties) randomness from nando's end, unspoken feelings until now, thigh riding, penetrative sex (p in v), a bit of teasing, praise kink go burrrr, creampie.

Word Count: 2,358

Author's Note: I literally only picked the middle pic for @oconso, it was for her. you’re welcome.

merry smutmas series

--

Fernando enlists the help of a certain someone to get his Christmas shopping done but the list is oddly familiar.

A charity event that Fernando attended every year, some sort of mission for children and their dream of being a driver. Fernando gave them an afternoon of his time, indulging them in all of their questions and stories, sharing some of his own as well.

You were, of course, right there with him. You weren't needed for this event exactly but as his press officer, you followed him. Sebastian often joked when he saw you that you were to Fernando what Britta is to him; except for the fact that you are much younger and hadn't been with Fernando for as long.

The idea was the same, you did everything for him. From making sure he gets there on time to meeting fans and signing everything he can.

At some point during the long event, Fernando asks you if you can do him a favour, handing you a piece of paper.

"I need to pick up some stuff, you can take my car. Oh and my card." He tells you, fishing the keys and his card out of his pocket to hand it over to you.

The keys to his Aston in your hand, along with the card and a list with some words scribbled along the lines, both in English and Spanish. You'd just have to figure it out along the way.

"You don't need me to stay?" You asked, looking between the list and the man. Fernando shook his head, "I'm good here. You should be done by the time I'm done here, no?"

"Probably."

"Come back when you're done, I'll wait for you."

You nodded, telling him you'd text him when you're done before you head out. The car beeps when you press the unlock button, a slick, shiny grey DBX 707 sat in the parking lot. You smiled to yourself, getting into the car and shutting the door.

The list sat on your lap, you looked over the things on the list and the places you'd get to go.

First stop on the list was Chanel; a Chanel classic with the double flap in Tiffany blue. It was stunning, Fernando had dotted down that he wanted it in the medium size. You were surprised he even knew what that meant.

His card beeped on the machine, the woman smiles as she hands the bag over to you. You carry it as you walk down the street to Christian Louboutin.

Purses, clothes and shows lined the walls, you felt like you were underdressed but the massive Chanel bag you were carrying fit you right in with the other rich people in the store.

You asked the woman for the shoes that he had written down; so Kate 120 in black, size 8.

You waited for her to bring them back. "Would you like to try them on, miss?" The woman asks, the slick box in her hands. You shook your head, "that's alright, thank you."

"Is this all?" She smiles, and you nod. The woman leads you to the front, doubling checking the sizes of the shoes and packaging it up into the brown bag.

There's one more place on the list that you've got to stop; Dior.

It's a few minutes drive from where you were, you leave the other bags in the car and head into the store. Fernando has listed that he was looking for the Miss Dior perfume. You look around a bit, stopping at the back to look at the wall of fragrances they had set up. You look closely and carefully and still you don't see the one that Fernando had wanted.

You reach for your phone, texting the man.

To Fernando: Hey, they don't have the perfume you wanted.

From Fernando: Which one was that again?

To Fernando: Miss Dior.

From Fernando: Just pick another one.

To Fernando: Any one?

From Fernando: Yeah, you have good taste. I trust your judgement.

You reply with a thumbs up and decide to look for something that you liked. It was a bit odd that Fernando sent you out like this, he did it often but never like this. He was never one to have you shop for someone who was clearly a woman. She must be important to him if he's spending so much on her.

You ended up picking out Dior Addict in place of Miss Dior. This one had the same jasmine scent with more of a vanilla undertone. You pay and take the bag from the man at the counter with a smile.

Getting back into the car, you reach over and set the bag with the others. You texted Fernando to let him know that you were on your way back, to which he replied with a thumbs up emoji.

It was a 20 minutes drive back to where he was, and once you arrived, you waited in the car for him. You were scrolling through your phone when a tap on the window startled you.

Looking over, you see Fernando. You wind down the window, "uber for Fernando ?" He asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

You roll your eyes. "Haha," you say flatly. "Do you want to drive?" You look over at him and he shakes his head, walking around to get into the passenger seat. Fernando lifts your purse, setting it on his lap carefully.

"Where to then?" You look over at him, yet again. "Home?

"Yours," he says, looking through your purse.

"Stop that," you smack his arms, turning the key to start the engine. The car purrs in response, a sound only luxury cars have.

"Do you have gum?" He asks, still looking.

"Front pocket," you inform him, heading towards your place. It didn't strike you as odd to be heading to yours. Fernando often picked you up so you just assumed you'd get home and then he'd head out to his place.

What did strike you as odd was Fernando taking the bags out of the car and following you up the stairs to your front door. "What are you doing?" You turned, clearly confused.

"Go on, I need to come in."

"What if I don't want you to come in?" Your question made him laugh, the man shaking his head. "Just go," he tells you, knowing you're just being difficult.

You unlock the door and walk in, Fernando sets the bags in the living room and makes himself comfortable on the couch. He had been to your place before it wasn't like it was awkward or anything. You just weren't sure why he wanted to come in.

"Want some coffee?" You called from the kitchen, filling the kettle. "Tea would be nice," he calls back.

You shake your head, setting two mugs on the counter. "I didn't offer any tea."

"I'm suggesting it then." He leans over the back of the couch, smiling at you. You roll your eyes, dropping the teabag in the cup while you wait for the kettle to boil.

Finding your way over to the living room, you sit on the floor by the couch. Fernando sets the bags on the floor next to you and you assumed that he was making space for you on the couch but instead spoke; "show me what you got."

The statement left you a bit confused, he had given you a list, of course he knew what was on it but you indulged, taking the stuff out of the bags.

You have them set on the floor in front of you, Fernando watches as you show him each thing carefully, not wanting to scuff or damage them.

"Do you like them?" He asks and you nod, "I do. Just a bit confused though," you look up at the man.

"Why's that?"

"Well.. you've always been the type of guy who shops for their women themselves so it just struck me as odd that you asked me to shop and pick up.. this."

Fernando smiles, "well I was busy and she's an important person to me, perhaps the most important."

You raise an eyebrow, looking at the driver. "Ohhhh okay.. so you have a girlfriend? C'mon, tell me, tell meeeee!" You nudged his knee, propping your elbow up on the couch as you turned your attention to him.

He doesn't say anything, he just smiles at you. This time was different; it wasn't playfully or teasing, there was something sincere about the way he looked at you.

It takes you a moment but you finally speak, "what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"The stuff is for you." He says and you look at him, clearly confused.

"You made me shop for my own Christmas gift? Fernando, that's.." It hits you at once, all the things he had listed were things you had mentioned to him that you liked over the last year or so.

Your hands covered your mouth, looking at him in shock. "Fernando, oh my god.. no." You shook your head, "this is too much."

"It's not," he rests his hand on yours, "you've been by my side for as long as I can remember, you do everything for me. You're the only person I trust and well.. love. You deserve this and so much more."

"It's a lot," you whisper and the man hushes you, letting you pull him into a hug. "Thank you." You whisper yet again, unsure how to repay him for his kindness; you knew you didn't have too, seeing that it was a Christmas gift but still.

Fernando's hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your skin softly. He smiles at you, wondering how he got so lucky. Not everyone gets to have someone they love in their life and he was lucky enough to find that in you.

You can't help it, it was like instinct. Shifting onto your knees when you reach up, your hand wrapping around his wrist to pull him closer, your lips on his.

A part of you thinks he's not gonna react and pretend it never happened and the other part of you expected him to push you away but he did neither.

Instead, he kissed you back.

He helps you up off the floor and onto his lap, having you settle on his lap. "Let me take care of you," he says, his hand cupping your face, finally pulling away from the kiss.

"Yeah," you lean into him once again. You stay in his lap, Fernando pushes the skirt you had on up a bit, shifting you onto his thigh.

His hands rest on your hips, rocking you on his thigh; back and forth very slowly. His head leaned back and he lifted his leg slightly. The sudden change caused you to slide forward, clit rubbing against the denim fabric under you.

The sound that left your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

“So beautiful,” he coos, pushing your hair back off your shoulders. “So good for me.”

You nod, pushing down on his thigh a little harder. “Let me hear all those pretty sounds, you don’t have to be quiet, mi vida.”

Little by little, your top and bra ended up on the floor along with Fernando's shirt. Your hands ran over his shoulders, down his biceps to his forearms.

His fingers creeped up under the hem of your skirt, "I've been waiting to have you to myself."

"Why's that?" You shift a bit to look at him, an arm over his shoulders as you look at him.

“Because I’m gonna ruin all that pretty makeup," he whispers to you, pulling you for a kiss.

It only spiralled from there; hands all over each other, clothes being tugged and pulled on. You’re both impatient, wanting more than you can get too at the moment. 

Fernando scoots you back on his lap, undoing his pants as your skirt gets pushed up on your hips, panties pulled to the side before you sink down onto his cock.

He bucks his hips and your nails drop down from his shoulders to the scratches along his back. He lets out a groan, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Oh god," you mumble, thighs on either side of the man as you roll your hips, arms over his shoulders. One of your hands tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, giving it a solid tug.

Fernando tilts his head back, a soft groan slipping from his lips when he feels your own lips meet his skin.

“Fuck, do that again.” He mumbles, feeling you clench around him. Soon enough he can feel your hands on his shoulders, letting you set your own pace, bouncing on his cock as your nails dug into the back of his shoulders; surely leaving behind red marks. 

His own hands digging into your hips hard enough to leave behind their own marks but that was the least of your concern right now. 

“Fernando,” you whimper, forehead pressed to his.

He feels you clench around him, your hips stuttering and he knows you’re close. His hand moving from your mouth to between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles over your clit and your head falls onto his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds slipping past your lips. 

He rests a hand behind your neck, pulling you back slightly.  “Look at me,” he tells you, kissing you softly. You both knew the other was equally as close, orgasm on the verge of happening. His hand shifted to grab your chin, pulling your focus back to him. “Look at me when you cum.” 

His words were enough to push you over the edge, Fernando following quickly after you. 

You fall flat against him and Fernando lets you sit on top of him for a bit, his hand rubbing around your back softly, fingers tracing random patterns into your skin.

"You okay?" He whispers and you nod, sitting up a bit to look at him. "What?" He asks, seeing the look on your face.

"How did you know my sizes? You know.. for the gifts."

He smiles, kissing your shoulder. "I pay attention, you know."

---

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#merry smutmas xoxo #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 smut

[a-aexotic]

half & half. part 001. next

warnings ; mention of abuse, trespassing, weed, arresting, mention of mental abuse (lmk if i missed anything)

main masterlist. obx masterlist.

The summer in the Outer Banks was never dull, always an adventure around the corner. That's why you loved it so much and why it was going to be so hard for you to leave.

You were going to college on the mainland in the fall and it was going to be hard for you to leave your hometown. Everything you cared about was here, including your reckless little brother.

Ever since you were kids, you was always getting him out of trouble. You tried to believe that he was going to fine without you watching out for him but it was hard for you believe, especially when he does stupid shit like this.

You waited in the police station's waiting room, awaiting the cop to get JJ from the cell. Apparently he had trespassed on someone's property and was found with weed. You were glad Sheriff Peterkin had called you instead of his father, you knew that would've caused more harm than good.

As soon as JJ saw you, he waved at you like a little kid waving to their parent at a talent show. You resisted the urge to groan. The cop escorted him to the front desk so you could sign his release. You walked over to them, a tight smile on your face. You were already planning the lecture in your head that you were about to give him.

"Hey, Y/N." He flashed his signature smile at you. You ignored him and looked over at the cop, giving him all your attention.

"Sign here," the cop explains. "And here, here, and there."

You obliged, signing the papers before the cop gave you the okay to leave. You grabbed JJ by the sleeve and walked out of the station.

"Ow! Be careful, I just got this shirt." He joked before you glared at him. You were trying to save the lecture until you guys got into your car but JJ was making it hard for you to hold your tongue.

You ignored him as you unlocked the car, JJ getting in the passenger seat. You put on your seatbelt before sighing heavily.

"God, JJ, how reckless could you be?" You said as you turned to your brother. "I had to leave work early so I could bail you out. It was like, 500$, out of my pocket! That could've went to my school, JJ." You started the engine as you turned back. You were working at the country club so you can save up and pay for your expenses for college. You didn't want to take the money from your parents even though they'd be happy to give it to you.

"I'll pay you back, Y/N/N, promise." JJ states but you knew he couldn't. He doesn't have a job and even if he did, you knew you'd feel guilty taking money from him. "Thank you for bailing me out."

You sighed and glanced over at him. He had a sweet smile on his face and you could tell that he felt bad. You couldn't help but smile back at him. "Always, J."

You lent him the AUX and he started playing music.

"I'm gonna grow grey hairs 'cus of you, JJ." You stated as you two drove through Outer Banks. You had the windows down, feeling the summer heat on your face.

"Honestly, Y/N, I saved you. I mean, you're spending the afternoon with me instead of those country club assholes." He grumbled as he mentioned the Kooks. He wasn't wrong, they were assholes - but not to you.

Your father owned the country club so they had to be nice to you. If not, your father would have their heads and exiled from the country club.

"They're not too bad." You said simply. You didn't like to talk about the Kooks with JJ - it was a sensitive topic for you two. "They give me good tips, and without those tips, I wouldn't be able to bail you out of jail for trespassing."

JJ rolled his eyes and nodded, "I guess you're right. The Kooks are good for some things, like good tips."

The rest of the car ride was spent with you and JJ talking about everything and anything - you two were always extremely close. You had always taken care of JJ, even when you had moved to Figure 8. With your money, you bought him anything he desired.

JJ was two years younger than you and technically your half sibling - you two had different fathers. You had spent the first 8 years of your life with his father and not only witnessed the abuse, but endured it, too.

You and your mother were lucky to get out once your biological father had decided to come back to OBX after a few years. JJ wasn't so lucky. Your mom always said she couldn't get custody of JJ but you knew she was lying. Part of her didn't want JJ with them since he looks so much like his father. You tried not to resent her for it.

The only thing that ever came in between you and JJ was the fact you were a Kook and he was Pogue. He couldn't help but envy you and your happy, wealthy family.

You had arrived at the Chateau and you smiled at JJ. "I'll see you later, JJ. Stay out of trouble-"

Before you could finish you heard John B shout and you both turned your head to the home. John B ran happily to your car.

"JJ! Y/N!"

You rolled down your window and grinned at the brunette. "John B, how've you been?"

"Great, good to see you. I'm so happy JJ is still in one piece, I thought he-"

"I'm good, no thanks to you. You, Kie and Pope just ran off without me and left me. I'd expect it from Kie and Pope, but you?! I guess the 'no pogue left behind' doesn't apply to me!" JJ feigned hurt as John B sighed. You tried not to laugh at his dramatic words.

"Well if you weren't so slow-"

"Me? Slow? I got 7 minutes for my mile in P.E, so-"

"7 minutes? That's impossible, JJ, not with all the weed you smoke-"

"Listen, boys, I'd love to stay but I have somewhere to be. So..."

They both stared at you before JJ finally got out of the car and smiled at you. "Okay, I'll see you, Y/N/N. Have fun, be safe and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"There's nothing you wouldn't do." You joked before JJ glared at you. "Okay, shoo, you two. I'm gonna be late. Love you, see you later."

"Love you, too!" John B and JJ both replied before he scowled at the brunette.

"She was talkin' to me."

You drove away before the argument ensued. You drove to Figure 8 and as the sun went down, the air become cooler but not any less humid.

You drove towards the Cameron estate and you stopped the engine before taking off you seatbelt. You lived a few houses away from the Cameron's and when you moved to Figure 8, you had become close to the family.

Your father had expected you to become closer with the oldest son because you were his age but you and him never quite clicked. The more you hung around the siblings, the closer you became with Sarah and the more you grew farther from Rafe.

You had never had a pleasant conversation with him. He always seemed irritated with you, acting like you were just one of Sarah's little friends. Which you were, but he acted like you were the most annoying person on the island. Sarah assured you that's just how he acts but you couldn't help but wonder if there's more to Rafe Cameron than what meets the eye.

You exited your car and walked towards the big house, bikini in your small tote that hung from your shoulder. The Cameron's invited you and your family to a barbeque party for the celebration of the beginning of the summer.

Of course you had to be late because of JJ but you were sure they wouldn't mind since you had informed your parents. You knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer it. You weren't sure if Sarah was home yet and it was awkward if you had just waltzed in there.

Rafe had opened the door and his face immediately dropped when he saw you. He was wearing his usual polo shirt and bright shorts with his slides. You internally prepared yourself for another unpleasant interaction with the Cameron brother.

"Look who decided to show up, Kook princess #2." He feigned excitement. He had a bitter smile on his lips.

"Hello to you too, Rafe." You held back your tongue. You didn't want to be mean to him back, wanting to be the mature one.

"Who's at the door?" You heard Sarah shout before she came to the door and her face immediately morphed into a excited expression as she saw you. She pushed Rafe out of the way to embrace you.

"I was waiting for you! I heard what happened, JJ can be so stupid sometimes." Sarah grabbed your hand and dragged you to the pool, leaving Rafe to close the door. He grumbled.

"Sometimes?" You added as Sarah laughed. You and Sarah have been close since you had moved to Figure 8, she was your first true friend. She and Kiara were your closest friends despite the age difference.

You were all friends until they had their fight. Ever since then, you had to spend time with them separately. And god forbid if you mention the other in front one of them, hell would break loose.

You greeted Ward and Rose. Apparently your parents are out getting some beer since they had ran out.

You and Sarah sat at the pool, gossiping about the most recent drama in Figure 8, including her most recent date with Topper.

"Yeah, he paid for me and opened the door for me, he was such a gentleman." Sarah blushed as she explained, making you giggle and hit her arm playfully.

"Wow, he has you blushing. He must be nice, then. I mean, I wasn't expecting that since he's friends with Rafe." You whispered his name, not wanting to accidentally summon him. "But to be fair, what he's doing is the bare minimum. You deserve more than that."

"I know, but that's a good start!"

You nodded, "Yeah. Now that I think about it, Topper's always been nice to me. I just always assumed he was an asshole because he hung out with the biggest asses on the island."

"What about Topper?" Wheezie suddenly appeared, sitting next to the older girls.

"Nothing!" Sarah quickly says before Wheeize rolls her eyes.

"Sarah, I can hear your phone calls through the walls, they're very thin." Wheezie explains as Sarah goes red. "Oh, Topper, you're so funny! Oh, Top, you're such a loser!"

"Wheezie! Shut up!" Sarah shouts as you and Wheezie laugh at her reaction. "God, do I get any privacy in this house?"

"We got the beer!" You heard your father open the sliding door as you whip your head to him. Your mother followed him as he carried the cases of beer. You got up to greet your parents.

"Finally, I need another beer." You heard Rafe groan as he walked over to your father as well.

Your mother smiled and hugged you. "Hey, sweetie."

"Hi,"

"What happened with JJ? Is he okay?" Even though she had technically disowned JJ, you knew that somewhere in her, she still cared for him.

"Nothing, don't worry about it, he's fine."

Your father turned to you and he grinned. "Missed you this morning, kiddo. Breakfast was exceptionally delicious this morning." He gazed at his wife. Your housekeeper takes Sundays off and your mother usually makes breakfast.

You laughed, "yeah I bet. Did mom make her special blueberry crepes?" You embraced your father.

"Yep, and they were delicious."

Your mother had smiled at his words and started to blush. "Oh, you're flattering me."

You laughed at her words, knowing that she was just being humble. You let go of your father, taking a beer from the case and turned. You saw Rafe staring at you. He looked dejected as he watched you and your parents interactions. As soon as he noticed, he looked away and turned his attention back to his phone as he took a drink of the beer.

You had always felt bad for Rafe, knowing that Ward doesn't treat him as good as he does Sarah or Wheezie.

As the night progressed, Rafe had decided to go to bed early. Ward had made some burgers even though it late. You ate them though, you were starving and they hit the spot for you.

After a bit, you excused yourself to the bathroom. As you walked up the stairs, you heard some shouting.

"Why can't you get a job, Rafe. I'm tired of giving loan after loan, when are you going to pay me back?"

"Oh, suddenly I'm the problem, huh? Sarah can ask for money but as soon as I do, it's a problem. Sarah is just the perfect daughter, right, dad?"

You heard Ward let out a loud angry groan. "I always have to clean up your messes and make sure you don't fuck up the Cameron name, Rafe! Sarah has never disappointed me a day in my life. You have disappointed me more than she ever has and you're older than her. Why can't you be more like your sister-"

"I'm not Sarah, dad! I never will. I can never measure up to the goddess Sarah, can I?"

Before Ward could refute, Rafe stormed out the room and looked straight at you. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Rafe-"

He walked away, scoffing at your words. You heard him storm down the stairs, slamming the door before you heard his car start and drive away. You stood there in shock for a few seconds before finally processing what you just heard.

#half & half #outerbanks rafe #rafe smut #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe angst #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #obx fic #obx s3 #obx john b #obx smut #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #obx2 #obx jj

[kingslimeball]

The weight of the burdens

Joe Keery x fem!pregnant!reader

Requested by; anonymous

Contents; Angst, fluff, pregnant!reader, 8 year age gap

Summary; Y/n finds out she's pregnant with Joe's baby not too far into their relationship. While waiting for him to arrive home, she has a mental breakdown.

Y/n started dating Joe three months ago. Three months. It's not a casual relationship; her birthday is coming up, and Joe has been planning something for her. He hasn't said what, to avoid giving away the surprise. But he described it in one word. Big.

After Joe's previously... devastating relationship, Y/n has been trying to make things easy for him. She wants to help, of course. Help as much as he's willing to let her. As much as she's willing to go for it not to come across as pity.

Nothing has been rocky so far, which is obviously a good sign for a blossoming couple. Besides the initial drama about their age gap, which doesn't even bother either of them themselves. But as Joe said to the press in response, anything and everything could cause hysteria. He's wasn't wrong. There's worse age gaps.

Nothing could get worse. They've finally gotten over the scandals and the drama. Now they can just relax. Or at least, Y/n can relax while she sits snuggled up under a blanket, perhaps with some hot chocolate while watching a film.

That's just how Joe invisions Y/n's time alone while he's away at work.

Y/n stares at the wall, breathing irregular and sharp. Every so often, she glances back to the pregnancy test in between her fingertips, as if it will change the next time her eyes re-trace the lines.

Fuck.

Slipping the test into her pocket, Y/n finally decides to leave the bathroom after an unknown amount of time has passed in the bathroom. She sits on the sofa, not knowing what to do with herself. The TV is on, but the sound is completely drowned out by her thoughts.

She'll have turned 24 by the time she'll have the baby. That just feels too young. She's still got a life to make for herself, not a life to make in general. Does she even want to keep it? Her gut says no. Her brain says no. But what about her heart? Her heart doesn't know. Her heart makes her think about Joe.

Poor Joe. He's been through a lot of stress in his previous relationship. Y/n doesn't want to be the cause of it, too. She's supposed to be the solution, right? She'd just be making more problems for him by having this to deal with, too. It's just going to add to the weight of the burdens he'll have to carry. She already feels guilty, and nothing has happened yet.

Options of what to do run through Y/n's mind. None seem like perfect options. She could just not tell him and secretly get an abortion. It sounds dumb when she thinks it through. Keeping a secret just sounds worse. Tell him and see what he has to say. That sounds horrible, too. What would he say? What would he do? Would Joe break up with her because he wouldn't be able to handle the stress? Would he get angry, sad, excited? She just doesn't know. None of her options are good options.

Just as her anxiety peaks, she hears the front door of the apartment unlock. Joe is home. She tries to get herself together as quickly as possible, but her hands won't stop shaking.

"Hey, baby." Joe's voice calls through the apartment, sounding rather tired. The strain on his voice just makes Y/n more hesitant to tell him what she's thinking. That's when she realises she's taken way too long to think of a response. "Baby? You okay?"

Y/n's head snaps over to look at Joe in the doorframe. The look on his face says it all... It's been a long day. He takes off his coat and tossed it onto an armchair.

"I'm fine. C'mere." She murmurs, reaching out her arms to him. He smiles softly at her and walks over to sit in the empty spot. Their arms simultaneously wrap around eachother in an embrace, Y/n's face nuzzling into the crook of his neck, Joe's nestling into her hair.

It's so calm that Y/n is close to deciding to not tell Joe any of it. He seems calm, she feels calm. So that should be enough, right? But she can't just keep a massive problem like that a secret. Not just to appease him. She's got to say it. But can she get the words out?

"...Joe?" Y/n murmurs, muffled by the skin of Joe's neck. He turns his head as much as he can to look at her face from a better angle.

"Yes?" He questions. He sits back so he can look at her face. He hears that tone of voice and knows there's something bothering her. He gives her a gentle look to reassure her, whatever it may be.

"I, uhm... Well, there's this... I don't know how to tell you, but..." She trails off each time she tries to tell him. Then, she realises that she doesn't have to get the words out. She looks him in the eyes, regretting it afterwards, and slowly pulls the pregnancy test out of her pocket with her trembling hand. She panics and tosses it into Joe's lap.

Joe looks from her to what's been thrown onto him. He turns it over to see the outcome of the test, and his face falls into something unreadable. He looks at Y/n, then back at the test, then back to her again. "Baby..."

"Yeah, there is one." She replies, confused by what sounds like him speaking as a caveman would.

"No, I meant you baby."

"Ohhhh. That makes more sense."

They laugh softly, softly so that the laugh makes them feel better, but not enough to pierce through the worries and tension.

They make eye contact again, both of them a sombre expression sinking into their features. The look they give each other is enough. Words are unnecessary to say what their eyes say. They don't know what to do.

#joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery x fem!reader #joe keery x you #joe keery x y/n

[soupydumplingss]

Sweet Venom.

Warnings: Female!Reader x Any NCT member (according to your imagination), angst!au, non-idol!au, reader is an alcoholic, unhealthy marriage, the male is cheating on her, the member is mentally unstable asf, reader is mentally unstable af in a way too, profanities (not much tho ig?...), reader cries in the end.

Note: Italics in "double inverted commas": ongoing conversation

Italics: reader is thinking

Normal letters: narration

The reader first starts the conversation and the member and reader speak simultaneously.

Prompt: "I can finally be me now. There's no serpent wrapped around my neck choking me. I'm free then."

Walking down the streets of Berlin, it's approximately 8:30 p.m. The bustling streets of the city are still full of life. A heavy backpack slung on one side of your shoulder, the first two buttons of your shirt unbuttoned with your tie hanging loose. Stumbling in your path, drunk, you just want to go home. As you fumble for the keys to your door, you suddenly drop something from your bag. A keychain. Specifically a keychain with initials on it. You kick it away somewhere.

After unlocking the door, you enter your house and lock the door. You kick your shoes somewhere and head to your room. Upon entering your room, a strange hit of nostalgia hits. A cabinet full of trophies, a heavy bunch of medals and certificates adorning the wall. Oh, what a kid I was, you thought. Now look at you, a working machine that runs 24/7 with little to no rest. You look at old pictures of yourself on the cabinet, smiling with your teeth on display. At least it's not fake.

Your younger self would've been proudly looking at you as the rich and successful woman she envisioned you as. But the current you isn't proud at all. Sitting in front of your computer on the topmost floor of your company, always working with a bunch of papers blocking your face, a failed marriage, all the youth evaporated from your face. You've forgotten about yourself, forgotten what happiness is, forgotten priorities. Did you forget your dear husband can still come into the house and see you in your heavily drunken state? Aren't you ashamed of picking another bottle of Hennessy from the cupboard in your kitchen and drinking straight from it?

"Why are you in my house again? To take the remaining of your stuff? If yes, then please be fast and get out."

"Just sign the papers and be out of my sight."

"So much for the man who himself was sleeping with another woman. And for the record, this is my house."

"You never gave time to us. She was there when I needed someone to stay by me, not you."

"So that's a good reason to break the vows you made in church? Remember who works harder."

"And that "who" forgets us. You've changed a lot. I love you very much, but she was just there."

"I think this proves that you were always unfaithful and ungrateful."

"You're moving from the fucking point."

"People who cannot express themselves properly stick to the usage of such crude words." You gulp the alcohol from the bottle.

"Still the woman who spits sweet venom even after being drunk. When will you stop this habit of returning home drunk?"

"It's my money. I can spend it as I want to."

"Baby, I left her. I want us to work out as we used to. I'll move back my stuff in."

Lies. That little stain of lipstick on your collar, a few long strands of the brunette's hair, her favorite perfume lingering on you, your puffy lips with a hint of pink on them, your hair ruffled. How much more lies will you feed me? You reek the smell of sex.

I don't think this will work out. I don't think we will work out."

Tears drop from the eyes of the man in front of you. He falls to his knees and hugs your legs while sobbing hard. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I won't do it again. I love you very much, honey."

You feel disgusted. Same old empty words, all lies. What's the point of this man using his words when it's all fake? I can literally see her in your car outside.

"I'll sign the papers just as you said. Be out of my sight."

You pulled your legs from his grip. As you take the pen from your pocket, you sign the papers and throw them on his face.

"As I said, be out of my range of sight with the remaining of your stuff."

You took off the beautiful diamond ring adorning your hand and threw it on his face. Drinking does help with unsolicited feelings.

He picked up his stuff and the ring while exiting the house. Finally.

A feeling of odd peace hits you. You feel empty. Were we ever meant for each other? Was it worth it? At least we both spared each others' remaining happiness, you thought. You went inside your room. Opening the door of your large bathroom, you fill the bathtub and hop in with your clothes on and the bottle of alcohol in your hand. You let the tap run. You're wet head to toe now. You think about the fight earlier. ""Still the woman who spits sweet venom after being drunk?" You were my sweet venom, the one who seemed as sweet as sugar but turned out to be a serpent." A fresh stream of tears leave your eyes, dripping down your face as you keep chugging the alcohol down your throat.

"I can finally be me now. There's no serpent wrapped around my neck choking me. I'm free then."

Author: help pls im a new writer 😭 i literally wrote this in 2 hours. forgive me if there is any error in the spellings. this story does seem very unclear without any context but somehow, it feels so right like this. I appreciate any support.

The above gif doesn't belong to me. Only the story and writings belong to me. Please do not copy my writings.

Copyright ©️ soupydumplingss

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct drabbles #nct angst #nct au #nct imagines #moon taeil #johnny suh #lee taeyong #yuta nakamoto #qian kun #kim doyoung #ten nct #jaehyun #winwin #jungwoo #mark lee #xiaojun #hendery #renjun #nct jeno #haechan #jaemin #yangyang #chenle #park jisung #nct x reader

[toomuchracket]

THE PIC IS GIVING DAD!MATTY UNIVERSE taking his girls out for a dinner maybe for the missus birthday?? and he’s being so sweet and loving with his babas and ur just low-key getting so hot and bothered seeing him being such a good dad and he defo knows and ur so ready to take him home even tho ur having a great time with the babas. JUST LIKE SO FLUFFY AND ADORABLE BUT ALSO AA MY OVARIES!!!

awwwwww yeah!! i love the idea that you and matty would include the girls in as many experiences and celebrations as you can (while still keeping them out of the public eye as much as possible) - some parents wouldn't take a 6 year old and an 8 year old to a fancy dinner, but they're well-behaved kids and you think they should a) have things to look forward to and b) get the chance to experience nice places and things so they know how they should be treated and treat people when they get a bit older, so they come with you! and all three of your loves have been so sweet your entire birthday; they woke you up with breakfast in bed (which is so rare because matty is usually vehemently against eating in bed lol) and gave you some lovely flowers and presents and homemade birthday cards (mayhem and allen and the girls' little puppy (new character unlocked!) signed them with pawprints and everything lol) and helped you pick out your outfit (coordinating with theirs, obv) for dinner. matty handles getting the girls ready so you can have some time to pamper yourself, and then he's ensuring you have your Stairs Moment - he does this whenever one of you has to get dressed up for something, and it's so cute. mans is counting down the days until baba 1 is old enough to see a romcom for herself lol - when you're all ready before you leave "so the girls can see how beautiful mummy is"; naturally, you're swooning over him before you even leave the house. and the swooning gets worse the further into dinner you get - matty's pulling chairs out for all three of you at the table, patiently explaining what's what on the menu to your littlest one who can't quite read yet, randomly complimenting all of you during convos just to be sweet, and generally just making sure everyone's having fun (and sneaking little kisses with you across the table when the girls are preoccupied with the dessert menu, which only serves to make you MORE attracted to him). and matty so knows you're getting a bit flustered because of him, but he LOVES that he still has that effect on you, so he keeps it up. serendipitously, the final straw for you maintaining composure comes just as you're waiting for the bill to be brought over; baba 2, bless her, is so sleepy after her dinner that she just climbs onto her dad's lap and cuddles into him, and the way matty just holds her gently and strokes her hair as she has a little rest without breaking his conversation with you and your eldest really does something to your ovaries lmao. once you get home and get the kids to bed (the little one fell asleep in the car and matty carried her so gently into the house), you quite literally jump your husband, who teases you for finding him so dilfy before ending your birthday in a VERY nice way lol <3

#mads muses #mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #dad!matty

[tomwambsmilk]

Succibal Face-Off: Round 3

At the end of week two, there are only 8 people left in the arctic.

Rhea Jarrell, despite being small and mousy, managed to kill Colin with a bow and arrow fashioned from the bones and sinew of her previous meal, Frank Vernon. Karolina Novotney and Lawrence Yee put up a good fight, but eventually, Karolina's long waystar experience moral depravity proved no match for Lawrence's scrappy determination (even despite just how ill eating Sandy Furness made her feel). Willa Ferreyra gave it her all, but Tabitha, having already eaten Roman, truly had nothing to lose. Jess Jordan and Stewy Hosseini spent the full 24 hours teetering between their hunger and their shared Kendall-induced trauma, but ultimately, when the fatal moment came, Jess hesitated just a beat too long and fell to Stewy's decorative Swiss army knife. Cyd Peach fought valiantly, but Shiv's fear of losing to another woman gave her the last wind she needed to take Cyd out. Kendall Roy wandered away into the wilderness, where he was eventually found by Naomi Pierce lying on the ground waiting to die (ie using the last of his phone's battery to play Candy Crush) - he didn't even need to ask for her to put him out of his misery. And Tom Wamsbgans and Logan Roy, grieving the loss of Connor/Roman/Mondale/Greg, encountered each other staring morosely into the bleak horizon, and found solace in each other's company - at least, until Gerri Kellman and Marcia Roy found the in flagrante delicto and took them out with rocks to the back of the head before either knew what was happening.

And yet - another week, and no sign of rescue. The stakes are truly dire. Will Karolina be able to end Rhea's streak of surprise wins, or will she too fall to the Frank-bow? Does Stewy have it in him to eat Tabitha, or has her kills made her too strong to be stopped? Can Shiv defeat the woman who ate both of her parents? Will Naomi be the one to end Marcia's streak of single-blow-kills? It's up to you!

The rules:

Round 3 has 4 polls. Each will go live on February 9 at 12:15am EST, and stay live for 24 hours.

Don't just vote for your favourite! Remember, this is about who in a given pairing would actually be able to eat who

In the event of a tie, super-secret tie rules are unlocked. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it

Feel free to add more detail in the notes! Was it a tough struggle or did one give in quickly? Did someone sacrifice themselves, or did they get stabbed in the back? Did they get hunted down? Did they run? Did someone cry?

Consider reblogging to increase the reach of the polls!

Masterlist of Round 3 polls under the cut (with links, once they go live). Good luck, and happy hunting!

Karolina Novotney vs. Rhea Jarrell

Tabitha vs. Stewy Hosseini

Gerri Kellman vs. Shiv Roy

Naomi Pierce vs. Marcia Roy

#succession #succibal face-off

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Run These Streets {5} || Street Racer!Bucky

Summary: With a new car and a new found freedom, Bucky is ready to take back his streets. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, smut (unprotected sex, fem rec oral) WC: 2.3k

Bucky Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six

“I’m gonna be in jeans all damn summer.” Bucky grumbled after the ankle monitor was unlocked and dropped in the probation officer's bag. “Look at this tan line.”

“I didn’t think you could even tan.” You giggled behind your hand as he massaged the free limb and scoffed. “Pretty sure I’ve only ever seen you burn.”

After signing a few documents Bucky walked his probation officer to his car on the street and grinned when his sneakers hit the pavement, something he hadn’t been able to do for months. You couldn’t help laughing as he punched the air triumphantly and stuck his tongue out. It was like a window to the past seeing him so excited, for a second Bucky was 17 again. 

“Wanna take a road trip to Miami?” He asked suddenly. “Plenty of rich kids down there to sell the Cali to.”

You looked at the candy red Ferrari parked in the garage and pouted. “It was kind of growing on me.”

“You said that about the Supra too.” He smirked. “What happened to eww it’s an import!”

 “First off, I don’t sound like that.” You said before pausing. “And…I don’t have a comeback to that.”

His fingers were already twirling the keys that he had pulled from his pocket as he waited for you to give him an answer.

“This is what you want to do with your newfound freedom? Drive for 20 hours.” You reconfirmed, his eager nod making him look so young and innocent that you immediately caved and agreed. “Fine, but you should invite Steve and Hannah along too. He’s been dying to see you wearing more than just boxers.”

He laughed as he pulled you into his arms, shaking his head at the reminder of the many days on home detention where he couldn’t be bothered getting dressed. “Bullshit, Steve’s always enjoyed perving up on this.”

“I can understand the appeal.” You said as you bit your lip and trailed your eyes over his body. “But I always did feel like a third wheel in your bromance.”

“Fuck I’m sexy.” Bucky stated boldly as he walked into the room with a pair of bright red heart shaped sunglasses. “I am rocking this look.”

“I’d say you’re a solid 8.” Steve said seriously before going back to plugging in his PlayStation in your tv. 

“Will you stop going through my closet?” You huffed as you tried to take the silly glasses back but Bucky’s lanky height towered over you. “I have things in there.”

“I know.” He smirked as he watched you try and fail to reach the cheap costume glasses, his eyes fixated on the lace of your bra peeking out of your top with each jump. “I wish our school had a uniform like the one you have.”

“Bucky…” You growled, forgetting the glasses as his words caught Steve’s attention and his head popped up from behind the tv. “That was a halloween costume and that is all I will say on the matter. I’m going to do my homework and pretend you don’t exist okay.”

“Goodluck with that, doll.” He winked, shoving the sunglasses atop his head and dropping onto the couch as Steve tossed him a controller. “What’d you get this week?”

“Gran Turismo.” Steve said as he sat on the floor in front of Bucky. 

“Again?” Bucky chuckled. “Just give up already, you can’t beat me.”

Steve didn’t answer as he concentrated on picking the car and race track that might give him an advantage.

Every Friday night was the same, staying up until dawn playing video games, eating junk food and planning extravagant adventures that would likely never happen. The only thing that changed was whose house you were at. This week was your turn to host since Steve’s mom was sick and Bucky’s dad was on an Army training exercise.

After closing your books and packing them away for school on Monday, you fell across the couch, kicking your feet up on the armrest and laying your head on Bucky’s lap. His arms came down around you without missing a turn on the track and your heart beat rapidly as you watched how his fingers moved across the controller.

“Alright, I’m tired of spanking your ass Rogers. Tell me you brought another game.” Bucky teased as he won yet another race and dropped the controller so he could rest a hand on your waist. 

“My turn.” Steve chuckled, holding the plastic cover up. “Call of Duty.”

Bucky grinned as he sat up a little straighter and your pillow shifted until he was in the prime position to play the new game. “You’re on.” 

“What’s the point of this?” You asked as they ran around like headless chickens, shooting anyone they came across including each other. “You’re on the same team.”

“So?” Steve laughed. “He can’t get more points if he’s busy respawning. Fuck!”

Steve dropped the controller as his half of the screen turned red and replayed the killshot, Bucky’s abs bouncing against you as he tried not to laugh too hard. 

“You were saying, punk?” Bucky teased, before patting your side to get you to sit up so he could pull you onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist and he placed your hands on his so you were holding the controller with him. “This is how you aim and this is the trigger.”

“I think I should stick to racing games.” You growled as you died once again. “Sorry, I’m ruining your stats.”

“Ugh, don’t apologise to him, just keep playing,” Steve begged. “I’m only one kill away from winning.”

You could never understand how a man could pack so light or fast but Bucky was ready to go in minutes with the necessities; a bottle of whiskey, a change of clothes and some cash left over from the sale of the Supra. With your bag finally packed and sitting with Bucky’s in the trunk of the Ferari, you were heading to Steve’s house where he was waiting outside practically chomping at the bit to get in the car along with Hannah.

“Do you know how long I have been dreaming of this road trip?” He grinned as he climbed in the back. “This is how we should have spent the summer of senior year. It’s not like those college visits did us any good.”

You laced your hand with Bucky’s as he wove through the traffic to get on the interstate south. It was a beautiful day for a road trip, the sun was shining and a tepid breeze blew through the windows that were down. Steve had made it his mission to steal the auxiliary cord and plug his phone in to control the music despite knowing the lifelong rule that whoever rides shotgun is in charge but he had fallen asleep somewhere around Richmond, Virginia, Hannah soon following after laying her head on his shoulder. 

Bucky looked more content than you had seen him in months and the carefree smile was something you had sorely missed. Everything about him looked perfect and you couldn’t help taking a photo to capture the moment as he rested his arm along the open window and slapped the steering wheel in time to the beat of a Lynyrd Skynyrd song. 

Tossing your phone back in the centre console, you placed your hand on Bucky’s thigh and watched the terrain go by in a blur. Your thumb massaged the denim material mindlessly, slowly creeping closer up his leg without any conscious thought. It wasn’t until you reached the crease of his pocket that he cleared his throat and you looked across to see him smirking down at your hand and you froze. 

“You should be concentrating on the road, Barnes.”

 “You know, I am trying to focus…” He groaned. “But I can’t deny that it doesn’t feel good. Keep going, please.”

You looked over your shoulder and found Steve’s mouth open as he snored with Hannah in a similar state. Satisfied they were fast asleep, you teased your fingers over the fly of his jeans and watched him take a sharp intake of breath. The sound sent a bolt of lightning to your core and you crossed your legs to ease the friction that was suddenly as necessary as air to survive. 

From the throaty chuckle he gave you knew he had noticed your reaction and reached over to run this thumb along your neck. “I love how your pulse races for me…”

“You better find a motel for the night.” You warned as you caught his hand and brought it down to the apex of your thighs. “I need you.”

The rev of the car woke Steve and he sat up, rubbing his eyes as he looked around and spotted the sign for Virginia Beach. 

“Sunset on the beach…romantic.” He grinned, waking up Hannah as Bucky pulled into the first motel that had a vacancy sign. “This dump, not so much.”

“You’ve slept in worse places.” You teased as you grabbed your handbag and followed Bucky to the reception.

Bucky’s lips were on yours before the door to the room even closed, the bags getting dropped unceremoniously beside a second before he dragged you to the bed. 

“You get off on teasing me don’t you doll.” Bucky moaned as he unwrapped you with all the vigour of a child at Christmas. “Getting my blood pumping.”

You sighed longingly as his lips left a trail of fire down your collarbone and over the soft flesh of your breasts. “What can I say, I love where it leads.”

Your squeal of surprise filled the room when Bucky suddenly fell back on the bed and pulled you with him but you quickly recovered as you straddled his hips. Bucky’s large hands guided your body down on his and your head fell back with a moan as he filled you.

“You feel so good baby.” He moaned as you rolled your hips and teased your nipples, pinching and rolling them to stiff peaks as he watched on hungrily. “Lemme taste ‘em.”

He pushed your hands aside so he could suck your nipple into his mouth, his tongue soft and warm like a velvet dream that left your core tightening around him. The need to climax spurred you to move faster, the cheap headboard and the spring mattress bumping and squeaking with every movement. You bit your lip as you tried to stay quiet, not wanting to add to the noise knowing who it was on the other side of the wall, but it was mission impossible and you cried out when Bucky thrust up into you.

Quiet moans echoed through the wall and you shook your head as if you could shake away the knowledge of what Steve and Hannah were doing. Bucky smirked as he heard them too and he flipped you over, the glint of his competitive nature bleeding into his eyes as he pulled out.

“Bucky, please…” you whined as your pussy ached to be filled by him again.

“Patience sweetheart.” He chuckled as he settled between your legs. “I didn’t get to say hello to my best girl.”

Stars shattered your vision until the outdated wallpaper was replaced by a galaxy and you cried out as his tongue delved between your slit with a kiss he usually savoured to dominate your mouth. Your legs squirmed from the sparks that jolted down them but Bucky’s hands held you tight and kept you from wriggling away. You were so close to coming and he could feel it as your clit bounced over his tongue.

“Oh god, Bucky!” 

Bucky crawled up your body, kissing the soft skin along your belly, stopping to give some love to the breasts he salivated for until he got to your lips. “I love you.”

Your words were lost in a moan as he filled you and hooked your leg over his hip. Bucky’s eyes were practically glowing in the reflection of the neon sign outside the window and you were enamoured by the love they held for you. If only you had listened to your gut all those years ago, you could have saved both of you a lot of time and heartache. 

“I love you too.”

His thumb caressed your cheek and he smiled the kind of smile that left your stomach somersaulting and your pussy clenching. He always smiled when you said those words, like he was still surprised that you would say them to him. 

You took his hand and laced your fingers with his as his slow strokes turned frantic, every thrust aimed at the sweet spot that left your head spinning. The room was filled with heady moans and the delicious sounds of your bodies joining in a heated dance, an overload to your aural senses of the best kind. Heat spread across your skin until you were slick with a sheen of sweat and the elastic band in your core snapped, sending your body convulsing beneath his touch.

“Bucky!” You whined as he kept his relentless pass and chased his own release. “Oh fuck.”

Bucky shuddered as he buried himself to the hilt and let a deep growl claw out from chest before collapsing atop you, his lips pressing gentle kissing to your racing pulse.

“We should shower and get ready to go.” Bucky murmured as he reluctantly sat up.

“Go where?” You asked as you caught him and pulled him back, still not finished with his cuddles.

“I can’t handle 14 more hours of Steve’s music.” He smirked, dragging you up with him and letting him lead you to the shower. “They have got to get their own ride and I know the perfect place to win one.”

Click here for part six.

#streetracer au #streetracer!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction

[themindofastrid]

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, it feels like the right time to share all the articles and resources that helped me understand, navigate, and heal my way out of unhealthy romantic relationships. Let's get started!

The Rose-Colored Glasses 🩷

1. What hooks you in your relationships? Understanding the combination of hooks, picturing & potential 2. Betting on potential – Are you gambling on a relationship capacity that doesn’t exist? 3. Infatuation vs. Love: How Can You Tell the Difference? 4. Why Anxious and Avoidant Attachment Attract Each Other 5. How to Spot the Signs of Codependency

The Cruel Summer ❤️‍🔥

6. Activation: when someone or something activates old issues 7. Signs You Might Be In an Unhealthy Relationship, And What to Do 8. Is he emotionally unavailable? How to spot emotionally unavailable men 9. Am I involved with an assclown? How to spot someone who means you & the relationship no good 10. Romantic Conflicts: Four Horsemen and Four Personality Type Groups

The breakup 💔

11. Don’t they care about me? Didn’t I mean something to them? 12. Does No Contact Work? Resisting the Urge to Break the Silence 13. Why they’re still emotionally unavailable despite how much you tried 14. Emotionally Unavailable Men: What Do They Do After A Breakup? 15. The big question: will he try to get in contact with me? 16. How To Stop Missing Someone When You’re Heartbroken

The Healing ❤️‍🩹

17. How to Move On from a Breakup You Didn’t Want 18. How To Let Go Of Someone You Love & Miss Every Day 19. How to Get Over Someone and Move On With Your Life 20. Breakups are often a catalyst for self-discovery…if we pay attention 21. How To Be More Emotionally Available 22. Vulnerability: The Key to Better Relationships

The Continuous Journey 💝

The Baggage Reclaim Sessions (Podcast) Unfiltered Real Talk (Newsletter) Nedra Nuggets (Newsletter) Win Your Breakup: How to Be the One That Got Away (Book) I Want This to Work: An Inclusive Guide to Navigating the Most Difficult Relationship Issues We Face in the Modern Age (Book) Mating in Captivity: Unlocking Erotic Intelligence (Book)

Last Words ❤️

• Don’t ignore your inner voice and intuition. • Consider getting yourself a journal; it will help you organize the chaos in your heart and mind. • Don’t push away the people who truly love and care for you; they will be your support system when things get tough. • Lastly, don’t rush into closure or healing; give yourself the same amount of time, patience, and energy you gave to that relationship.

I hope this little library is as useful for you as it has been for me. If you’re currently struggling with an unhealthy relationship, just remember you’re not alone, and you deserve better.

Take really good care of you, now and always 🤍.

#post #guide #unhealthy relationships #relationships #breakup #attachment #codependency #emotions #emotionally unavailable #accountability #healing #self love #romantic relationships #healthy relationships

[noellawrites]

Day in the Lie - Yandere!Marcus White x reader

summary: a day in the life of your less-than-perfect relationship with Marcus

warnings: handcuffing, kidnapping, manipulation, gaslighting, pregnancy talk, general mean behavior, stockholm syndrome, toxic relationship

8:00 A.M.

This morning, you wake up to the alarm clock and notice Marcus' heavy arm slung across your body.

"G'morning babe," Marcus rasps in his morning voice. He pulls his arm away from your body languidly, fingers lingering on your hips.

"Morning, Marcus," you sigh, mentally gearing up for another day of Marcus commandeering your every move.

You watch as Marcus stands up and walks over and pulls your pajama bottoms and underwear off without a second thought. You take in a sharp breath and your handcuffed hand clinks against the bed frame as you maneuver towards your boyfriend.

"Jeans for today, with this shirt," Marcus murmurs to himself, obviously not asking for your input.

He pushes a clean pair of underwear up your legs, then the pants. "Good girl," he praises as he grabs the key to your cuffs and unlocks you.

He dresses you in the shirt and your blue Cloud 9 associate vest, then slides a couple bracelets on your hand to cover up the red marks left behind by the metal cuffs. You watch him slide his warehouse jumper on as he tells you about how he forced Glenn to give you the same shifts and breaks every day.

8:30 A.M.

You sit in one of the back tables between Marcus and Dom, one of Marcus' idiot warehouse cronies. You wait for the staff meeting to start before the store opens at 9, while avoiding eye contact with all of your co-workers.

A very pregnant Dina talks with an also pregnant Amy, and you notice Marcus' eyes scanning them.

“I think you’d look pretty hot like that, huh?” Marcus says, gesturing to your two superiors.

“…pregnant? But—aren’t you infertile?”

“Oh, I know we can do it if we try hard enough. And I’m sure Glenn will approve of using the store’s insurance money to see a doctor. He loves kids!”

“Uh, maybe,” you sigh, feeling defeated.

11:00 A.M.

“(Y/n), go take your break,” Amy says quickly, gesturing towards the break room. It had been a surprisingly busy day, and Amy was having more people go on break at different times to survive the rush.

You nod, signing out of the register and switching places with Brett. As you walk toward the break room, you’re stopped by none other than Isaac. Great, another one of Marcus’ boys.

“Hey there (y/n), where you headed off to?” Isaac asks, stopping clear in the middle of your path and crossing his arms.

“Amy put me on break early since she had to put some extra baggers on. We’ve been busier than usual,” you explain, attempting to walk around him.

“You know Marcus’ rules, no breaks without him,” Isaac warns. God you hate your boyfriends’ stupid friends.

“Okay, I’ll go get him.”

“I’ll go with you, just to be safe.”

“Jesus, fine.”

1:10 P.M.

You check your phone, realizing your lunch break was supposed to start ten minutes ago. Where was Marcus? He had never been great with time, but usually remembered to retrieve you.

You leave Women’s Wear and head to the warehouse. The warehouse is probably your least favorite part of the store: dark, cold and creepy employees.

As you enter quietly through the double doors, you notice Marcus talking and gesturing to his workers. The roughed-up men watch him, enraptured.

“So I was like, ‘we should have a baby,’ and she was like ‘no!’ and i was like ‘you’re just a stupid woman and you don’t have a choice,’ you know, because i basically lock her up,” Marcus laughs.

To your horror, the men join in, shaking their heads at your behavior and subsequently high-giving Marcus. It makes you feel disgusting.

“Marcus, isn’t it lunchtime?” you say in a small voice, coming up behind the group of ten grown men.

“It’s lunch when I say it is, bitch,” he laughs, only softening once he sees the embarrassment on your face.

He walks you both out quickly, frowning once he sees the tears streaking down your face.

“Babe, you know that’s just guy talk, right? I still love you,” he promises, and you nod.

Once in the break room, you grab the blue insulated bag containing the lunches Marcus packed for both of you. Since you couldn’t afford much, you mostly ate whatever the two of you could scrape together from the store without Glenn or Dina noticing.

3:30 P.M.

Marcus' shift had finished unexpectedly early, but you still have thirty minutes left. Instead of heading down to your shared bedroom, Marcus decided to drag you over to the baby aisle and antagonize you.

"Is it just because you don't wanna be stuck with me? Because, uh, sorry, but you're gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life," Marcus laughs, but deep down you knew it wasn't a joke.

"That's not it, Marcus," you sigh, grabbing some misplaced formula cans and moving them to the correct shelf.

"Then what is it?!"

"Marcus, you treat me like a child! You don't give me any space and I feel like I can't breathe. And no offense, but you act pretty childish most of the time, too. And on top of that, we literally live in the store's basement! How are we supposed to raise a child when our own relationship is so dysfunctional?" you sigh in frustration.

Marcus grows unexpectedly silent as you return to organizing the aisle. Even if he was bugging you, you were still technically on the clock.

"I'm just wrapped up in this... I don't know, this... fantasy of us. Happy, living somewhere nice, not having to worry about you leaving me. I think we would raise a good kid," he states simply.

His answer surprises you, and despite everything wrong with Marcus, you agree with him. You still love him deep down somewhere.

6:00 P.M.

You cook some recently-expired ramen on the small camping stove in your shared room as Marcus cleans up. He rarely cleans, but he was excited after you admitted to him that you also loved him and wanted to try and make things work.

"I'm so stoked that you actually love me! Nigel and the boys were in doubt, but I said they just don't know you!"

You laugh, using a small wooden spoon to stir the noodles in the pot over the portable stove.

When you glanced back up, you notice Marcus taking down his Animal House poster and putting up a poster for your favorite TV show.

"Marcus, you really don't have to do that," you say, touched that he would even consider adding something of yours to the walls.

"No, I want to. It's your place too," he explains, taping it to the wall.

"There, now it's home," Marcus says, standing back to admire his (slightly crooked) work.

"I love it babe," you laugh, "thank you."

And when he walked over to hug you, you didn't even flinch.

#marcus white x reader #marcus white imagine #marcus white #marcus superstore #superstore x reader #superstore imagine #yandere marcus white #yandere superstore

[thewertsearch]

Ask Compilation 02/10

Yup! I just checked, and no new comics seem to have been unlocked since I first checked it out, so it seems like they all dropped at once. 

@scouttf2isnamedafterjerma​ submitted: this is canon this really happened

LOVE when she said this, in the comic,

Sburb Glitch FAQ? Color me fucking intrigued. 

Thanks! It’s going to be a long time till I can read any of these, of course, but I’m filing them away for later.

Imagine meeting an alien for the first time, and not only are they shockingly humanoid, they also have your hairstyle. And your glasses. And - essentially - your name. What could be up with that? 

Refer to the chart, Terezi!

Although with your intuition, you probably know the answer to that question better than I do. 

Oh yeah! That’s some fun foreshadowing. 

I initially took that as a sign that the 8-ball was answering Jade’s question from an ‘out-of-universe’ perspective, but now that we have an in-universe explanation for its answer, I no longer think that’s the case. 

I totally get why she’s the troll now. Hoping to see many more Vriska Incidents in the future!

She did say she was into apocalypses, and this one is even dice-themed. I wonder if this is merch from Troll Problem Sleuth?

Oh, god damn it. 

Are the forums really completely kaput? It’s absolutely bizarre to me that no large-scale backup or archive was made, in the decade(?) the website existed. 

I guess we’ll always have the Wayback Machine, but its coverage tends to be patchy for more obscure websites.

(For context: I got a question from @krixwell​ about the blog’s spoiler policy a week or so before the pause, voicing some worries about potential spoilers in asks. The tl;dr is that I’m alright with some minor spoilers - for example, asks about what my Homestuck Title would be, or jokes about the weird structure that the comic seems to take(?) later on)

We’ll see! I really enjoy the discussions brought up by asks, and I’ve had a lot of fun with Titles that I wouldn’t have had otherwise. I’ve been fine so far, but I agree that if I do get burned, I’ll reconsider. 

I did dodge a bullet here, admittedly! Mind you, I think if I’d noticed this before the Vriska reveal, I’d probably just have been smug about puzzling it out beforehand. 

Vriska decides to beat the Noble Circle at their own game, and becomes Vah’ru-Ee’skaie, eldritch horror of the 8th Dimension. 

Gotta give the Homestuck Forums props for picking these troll names - there’s so much going on with each of them. 

She is constantly Spaced out. Mind you, half of all Sburb Players have their heads in the clouds!

This relates to my theory that Vriska can only make people do things they already wanted, on some level, to do. 

Hence, Karkat must have wanted to keep talking to her. Honestly, the idea that he still wanted to insult her is a pretty safe bet, and I think that’d definitely be enough for Vriska to work with, if this is indeed how her power operates.

Oh, that is a challenge and a half. The trolls all look really cool, with appearances that reflect their personalities really well.

However, this is an undertaking I’d rather take with all twelve troll designs at once. Come back to me when we have all twelve sprites!

Even if the the ‘games for girls’ thing was expanded on later, it’d be hard to prove it wasn’t a Hussie retcon. I love Karkat, but he’s a shitty teen, and it wouldn’t even be the worst thing he said today. 

Vrish-ka just feels right to me. Damn it, I can’t believe that’s how my Britishness comes out. This is almost as bad as ‘sweeties’. 

I love how this, coupled with the previous ask, accidentally implies that Sollux is British. Now that’s a headcanon I can get behind. 

He’s picked the wrong gimmick, then - he’s meant to be ‘never wrong’, but I’ve seen some wrong-ass spoilers!

Yup, I’ve arbitrarily decided this is my OTP - especially given that Lord English has become a more prominent character recently. This is the arc this comic needs!

Forgot about that. Perhaps your lusus’ diet depends on its subspecies, and Vriska - in a matter that she’d consider fitting - rolled the lusus with the worst diet of all. 

If we can pick our Aspect-themed powers, can I call dibs on ‘always has energy?’ 

True. Homestuck - the comic itself - has just one writer, though, so we shouldn’t be dealing with any Expanded Universe shenanigans. 

I guess Hussie could answer differently every time you ask a given question, or write multiple conflicting backstories for a character, but that would make the comic sort of hard to engage with or enjoy.  

I wouldn’t say it’s completely cut-and-dry that canon Midnight Crew implies canon Problem Sleuth. For one thing, the Midnight Crew isn’t even canon to Problem Sleuth! 

I never considered that Godhead Pickle Inspector could actually be an imaginary entity, only ‘omnipotent’ in one sphere of reality. That would make sense, given his origins. It would be fun if he was the source of the dream magic which allows Jade to grow extra arms, since that’s pretty close to how Imaginationland works.

We talked about it! Just in an ask, rather than the main liveblog. Quite a lot of chatter goes on on those asks, so check ‘em out!

#asks #full liveblog #act 5

[ejzah]

The Other Shoe, Part 8

***

Deeks spent a day in the hospital to get his potassium and other numbers stable, and make sure they stayed at an acceptable level, before being released home. With his latest hospital stay came a whole new set of care instructions and semi-weekly appointments for potassium infusions. Deeks wasn’t exactly thrilled to find out he’d be spending even more time at the kidney care center.

He stared out the window now as Kensi drove him in for his appointment. On the surface, he’d been calm all morning, keeping any

negative reactions at bay. The only signs of his true thoughts were the staccato tapping of his fingers against his thighs and the tension in his jaw.

Overall, he looked infinitely better than three days ago in the hospital. His skin wasn’t gray (just pale) anymore, the darker shadows beneath his eyes had faded some, and he didn’t seem quite so weak.

“You know, I don’t mind staying with you,” she offered. Despite her objections, after the first few sessions, he’d insisted on Kensi going home or to work after drilling him off. “Since this will be a longer one.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine,” Deeks said with a stiff shrug. Absentmindedly, he twisted his forefinger and thumb around either wrist, wincing slightly. Kensi pulled eyes back to the road, very purposely not watching his movements. He found the muscle fatigue and aches particularly humiliating.

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Martin Deeks?” she asked, deciding to go the route of teasing instead of admitting she was a little worried about leaving him alone. He insisted he felt fine, well fine for his new baseline, but the thought of him passing was a new constant fear.

“No. I’m trying to save you from an afternoon of boredom. I’ll probably sleep most of the time, anyway, and I’ve got my book, work, and snacks if I don’t.”

He reached across the consul, squeezing her hand, his fingers a familiar and reassuring pressure against hers. He winked at her, offering a playful smile that had her grinning back despite the conversation.

She took their designated exit, arriving at the frenesic center a few minutes later. Deeks grabbed his messenger bag with his supplies as she pulled up in front of the entrance, zipping up his hoodie even though it wasn’t particularly chilly out today.

“I’ll call if anything goes wrong,” he promised, leaning over to kiss her. Kensi cupped his cheek, extending it for several seconds until someone behind them honked. Deeks pulled back with a wistful glint in his eyes. “See you later.”

“See you,” Kensi murmured. She watched him go, blinking against a sudden stinging behind her eyes.

***

When Kensi onto their street 45 minutes later, there was a blue beetle she didn’t recognize parked in the driveway. Its owner became apparent as she parked alongside the beetle, and saw Nell sitting on the front porch. She hopped up, tucking a blue encased tablet into her shoulder bag, waving as she hurried over to hug Kensi.

“Nell, what are you doing here?” Kensi asked, even as she squeezed the younger woman tight.

“Uh, like I was going to leave you to read the HLA Typing results all on your own,” Nell replied, putting her arm around Kensi’s waist and guiding her towards the front door. “Eric would have come too, but he had to take a business call.”

Kensi suppressed a sigh; she’d seen a notification in Deeks’ online medical chart the day after he collapsed, but hadn’t told anyone besides Nell.

“The only reason I didn’t tell Deeks yet is because I don’t think he needs the added stress.” She unlocked the door, making a beeline for the kitchen. She needed something calming to drink. A beer sounded perfect right now, but she didn’t want to get in the habit of managing her stress with alcohol. Instead, Kensi started brewing two cups of peach tea.

“Riiiight,” Nell drawled from behind her, leaning her back against the opposite counter. “You know how Deeks feels about a transplant from one of us. I love the man like a brother, but damn the man is stubborn.”

“Tell me about it,” Kensi muttered in agreement. Said stubbornness was one of the aspects that made Deeks such a good investigator and man. It also turned out to be a thoroughly frustrating trait when it came to situations like this.

“Which is why you need to find out the results now so you have enough time to plan how to manage Deeks’ reaction.”

Kensi heaved a sigh, handing Nell one of the steaming mugs. She led them back out to the couch, sitting cross-legged while Nell tucked her tights-covered legs beneath her.

“We’re supposed to wait to discuss this with Deeks’ doctor.” Despite her protest, Kensi felt her resolve wavering.

“Then why would they send them to his account?” Seeing Kensi was about to speak, Nell forged ahead, holding up a purple tipped finger. “Kensi, if Deeks is annoyed that you checked before him, it won’t matter in the end. All that does matter is that he lives a long and healthy life.”

Nell was right. Closing her eyes, Kensi set her tea to the side and grabbed her laptop off the coffee table. “Ok.” She opened the lid, typing in her user password. Nell gave an encouraging nod. “But you cannot tell anyone else about this for now.”

“Understood. Now check the damn tests already!” Nell said, getting Kensi to crack a tiny smile.

Shaking her head, Kensi logged into Deeks’ medical account and pulled up the newest reports. “There’s only three,” Kensi murmured, opening each one and scrolling until she found the bolded results at the bottom. After a minute, she closed the laptop and sat back, pressing covering her mouth with her hand as tears flooded her eyes.

“Kensi?”

“None of them are a match,” Kensi whispered, completely devastated.

“None?” Nell repeated, grabbing the laptop and opening it again while Kensi grabbed a Kleenex. “Not even a partial?”

“Mine was,” Kensi said, which somehow felt ironically cruel and worse than if she’d been a complete mismatch. “Not enough to be a viable match though.” A fresh wave of tears filled her eyes and her throat tightened.

“Oh Kens.” Scooting closer, Nell wrapped her arms around Kensi’s shoulders. “Hey, those are only your, Rountree, and Callen’s results. There’s still hope we’ll find a match from the team. Plus, Deeks is already on the national donor list and I found a couple specialists who are doing promising experimental treatments.”

“Thanks, Nell.”

“Of course. We got this, lady.”

Kensi chuckled wetly, pressing her damp face into Nell’s shoulder.

“God, I need something stronger than tea,” she said.

“Triple scoops of brownie craze it is,” Nell decided, squeezing Kensi one extra time before she let go. “I’ll grab my keys.”

***

A/N: I don’t know if lab results like these would be available in an online chart like this since another person is involved. Feels like it might be a HIPPA violation of some sort, but as usual, we’re going to let that slide in the interest of the story.

#ncis la fanfiction #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #nell jones #angst #sick fic #Deeks whump #worried Kensi #supportive Nell #the other shoe #part 8 #au #ejzah fanfiction

[idnek83]

Service With a Smile 3/?

Fandom: Trigun

Rating: Explicit (eventually)

Pairing: Vash/Wolfwood

Tags: Coffee shop au, Vash owns a cafe, Wolfwood is a mystery man, Trans Vash, Getting together, Fluff, Slow burn, Eventual smut, Recreational drug use, Drinking, Vash is self conscious about his scars, afab language

Summary: Vash works at a little coffee shop known as Seeds Cafe,  and likes to make his days more interesting by trying to make each of  his customers smile or laugh at least once before they leave. He has a 100% success rate... That is, until one day a moody man with a taste for cigarettes and black coffee shows up...

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Read on Ao3

_____________________

It’s about 30 minute before close and Vash keeps glancing at the door between cleaning glasses. Logically he knows that just because Mr. Grumpy came in around this time yesterday, it doesn’t mean he’ll be back, but he can’t seem to stop himself from looking up at every little noise, hoping to see the man’s scowl coming through his door.

The minutes pass by agonizingly slow, but the door remains closed.

When 8 o’clock rolls around without anyone coming in, Vash lets out a disappointed sigh and flips over Seeds’ open sign.

-

Vash flops face first onto his bed, ignoring the way the bed frame groans and creaks in protest.

Even if he spent most of the day doing nothing, working 14 hour shifts at his cafe still takes a lot out of him, and he’s always more than content to immediately pass out as soon as he gets home.

As if to spite him, his phone vibrates.

He grumbles and shifts enough to grab it from where he’d tossed it on his side table. When the screen lights up he’s hit with a wave of conflicting emotions.

He has a text from his brother, Nai.

He considers ignoring it. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk with his brother, it’s more that their relationship is... complicated, and he isn’t sure if he can handle all the heavy emotions that generally come along with their conversations right now.

Despite himself, he unlocks his phone to see what Nai sent him.

      Hope you're well. I’m departing for Stockholm soon.

Vash vaguely recalls Nai mentioning something about an upcoming conference in Stockholm last time they spoke on the phone, but for the life of him can’t recall what it was for.

Nai’s job has always confused Vash, but he could best be described as... an entrepreneur? Or maybe a business tycoon? From what Vash understands he basically owns a lot of business and makes money by... giving them money and then taking a cut of the profits later?

At first he had been worried his brother was some kind of loan shark, but after a lengthy explanation, during which Vash nodded a lot and understood very little, his brother had assured him that was not the case.

And Vash is mostly sure he can trust him.

He isn’t really in a place to question him at the very least, considering Nai is the only reason Vash was able to open Seeds in the first place.

Vash sighs. Just send Nai something light and move on. If he’s getting on a plane soon he wont have time to inquire into every facet of Vash’s life and inevitably (if accidentally) make him feel awful about himself anyways.

      I’m good! Have fun in Stockholm! : )

Vash waits, part of him hoping he took too long and Nai is already on the plane, while the rest of him feels guilty for hoping that.

      This is a business trip. Not a vacation.

Vash feels his stomach sink. Right. Business. No fun allowed. Vash should know better. He tries to think of an appropriate response but his phone vibrates again before he comes up with anything.

      But I suppose I can try.

It makes him smile, but then for some reason his throat gets tight and he suddenly fells like he’s going to cry. He types up a quick response before his vision blurs too heavily.

      Yay! :D

He rolls onto his back and lets a few tears roll down his cheeks. He hates that he’s like this. He hates that he isn’t a better brother. Nai does so much for him and yet Vash can barely manage to even talk to him without having some kind of emotional breakdown.

Nai just makes him feel... too much. He’s thankful, and he loves him, and he misses him, but he’s also angry, and jealous, and knows he’s not worthy of being the twin of someone so completely perfect. He’s ashamed. He wishes Nai was ashamed of him too. Nai gave up so much for him and all Vash has to show for it is a tiny apartment and a cafe that’s just barely staying afloat.

He hates relying on Nai any more than he absolutely needs to. It’s why he works so much at Seeds. Why he’s only hired 2 part-time employees, even though it means he works 70 hours a week.

Vash closes his eyes and encourages his thoughts to stray away from his brother and his guilt.

They land on his part-timers.

Meryl and Milly are both wonderful. He had hired Meryl first, she was a regular who would often come to Seeds to study or work on homework, and Vash had always enjoyed her visits. Then one day she had offhandedly mentioned looking for part-time work, and Vash decided pretty much that instant that he wouldn’t mind a little extra help during mornings and weekends.

A few weeks after hiring Meryl, she asked if Vash would consider hiring someone else as well, insisting he worked way too much and that he looked so tired most days that Meryl was certain it was only a matter of time before he accidentally poured scalding hot coffee on someone's face. Vash had relented, saying he could probably afford to hire another part-timer to cover the mornings Meryl couldn’t work, but Meryl insisted he have them work weekends too, so that Vash could actually have days off. He had been opposed to it at first, he already felt bad about taking Meryl’s weekends away from her, but Meryl had argued that no one would take a job that only offered a handful of morning hours, so Vash eventually agreed to give up his weekend shifts.

He had left hiring to her, saying he didn’t have the money to advertise an opening, and he’d be happy to just hire one of her friends if she knew anyone looking for work.

Two days later, she brought in a girl nearly as tall as Vash, and just as broad.

Milly is an absolute delight, Vash has never met someone so polite who also managed to have a great sense of humour and take absolutely no shit from anyone who even thinks about being rude around her.

Apparently Meryl had met her at an orientation event for their college, and when Meryl had mentioned not being able to see the stage, Milly had simply scooped he up and put her on her shoulders. After that they got to talking, realized they were both majoring in journalism, and had been inseparable ever since.

Vash had immediately taken a liking to Milly, and welcomed her to Seeds with open arms.

Still though, the first Saturday the girls had worked on their own, Vash came in 3 separate times before they banned him from visiting his own store on weekends. Milly literally carried him out, lifting him up under his arms like a child and placing him outside, before scolding him for not taking time for himself.

It had been months since then, and he still never really knew what to do with his weekends.

Mostly he sat around his apartment, slept, and occasionally got high. He didn’t really have the money to be going out to bars every weekend so...

When was the last time he’d gone out? It had to have been more than a month ago... maybe two?

His thoughts flicker back to the image of Mr. Grumpy, clothes rumpled, obviously exhausted, smelling of booze, and likely on his way back from a one night stand.

God. When was the last time he’d slept with somebody?

Vash starts counting backwards, but gives up when he realizes it’s been longer than he wants to admit.

It’s not that he has trouble finding partners on the rare occasions he does go out. He knows he has a pretty face and a body that easily catches people’s eyes on the dance floor, and he isn’t against using that to his advantage.

No, the problem usually comes after the bar, when the clothes start coming off and his partners get a look at the mess of scar tissue that makes up his body.

That was usually the point people started conveniently deciding they were too tired for a hookup, or remembered they had to work early the next morning, so would he mind leaving actually?

The last time he had actually gotten laid, the guy had insisted he only ever fucked in complete darkness, and had not just turned off the lights, but made sure to close the blinds to stop any light from coming in.

He’d conveniently brought this up right after Vash took off his shirt.

Vash can’t really hold it against anyone though. He knows what he looks like.

Sometimes he can’t even bare to look at himself...

Vash heaves a deep sigh, rubs his face and tries to shake himself out of his pity party.

Even if he doesn’t go home with anybody, the idea of just going out to dance still sounds like it could be fun. He’s been cooped up in his apartment and at work for too long, and as long as he has a few drinks at home first, a night out shouldn’t set him back too much.

He remembers hearing about a new bar opening up not too far away. One of the employees had come in and asked if they could put a flyer up on his shop’s bulletin board last week, and he thinks it’s probably still there. He'll have to take a look tomorrow. He hadn’t paid that much attention to it at the time, but he’s pretty sure he saw a rainbow flag on the flyer, which was good news if he does end up finding someone to... maybe not sleep with, he doesn’t think he can deal with another rejection right now, but maybe just make out with? Get a little handsy with?

Either way, if it’s a gay bar that means his pool of potential partners isn’t limited to just women, and at the moment he’s kind of craving someone big, and broad, maybe with dark hair, a bit of stubble, big hands, nice pecs...

Vash falls asleep to thoughts of drinking and dancing, the scent of cigarettes lingering somewhere in the back of his mind.

<< Previous Chapter || Next Chapter >>

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun #fic #My writing #Fic SWaS

[dapper-shipping-forever]

Trigun s/i origins, part 2

Link to part 1 X

Around the time the twins appear to be around 8-10, just to give a better picture, since they are actually about one year old and Lyric is close to two he looks to be 10-12, and since Gill is a few months old she seems to be 6-8.

Please enjoy now !

It had been weeks of learning how to be truly independent. Of exploring their wide open home. Lyric and Gill had never been allowed freedom before, neither was completely sure what they should actually do with it. They were aimless.

They mainly avoided staying in one place for those first few weeks. Lyric insisted with the humans crawling about that it was best for them. They used their small pod as a vehicle pulled by some toma to move about swiftly and more comfortably. As independent plants, they never required food nor water. 

They stayed fully away from humans, only relying on each other for companionship. What they experienced in that lab weighed on both of them, but also only drew them closer to each other. They loved each other, and agreed that they must stay together like this. Lyric never let go of the briefcase containing the findings and information about them he had taken from the researcher before fleeing the lab, always keeping it secure in their vehicle. Though their vehicle was more comfortable then simply riding toma, it was also more easily noticed.

The two plants had stopped near a rock to let the toma take a brief break. Gill stretched in the sunlight, a small smile gracing her face as it's warmth hit her face. Lyric tugged on the rope connecting the toma, checking it was tight enough. Satisfied, he started walking back towards Gill. After he reached her, he noticed something approaching them. Dust kicked behind a group of toma, and on their backs the faint outlines of humans. 

Lyric growled, Gill's attention drawn to the group near.

"Humans?" She questioned. They hadn't seen any for weeks out here. Part of her wanted to meet them, to find companionship. "Should we greet them?" Her voice is hesitant, but optimistic.

"Are you kidding?" Lyric says. "What've I told you before? We can't trust them !" He looks around. "We need to hide." He grabs Gill by her wrist, pulling her along to hide behind the nearby rocks. They could have run, but the humans would be faster on their single tomas than their vehicle could be when they would've been chased after.

Only when the humans are close enough to see better does lyric's eyes widen. He'd forgotten the briefcase; it was in the vehicle. If he went out now to try to get it, they'd assuredly spot him. He stayed where he was.

"What's that?" A female voice asked.

"A ship? Someone attached toma to it and dragged it all the way out here." A male voice says.

"What do you think of this, Brad?" Another asks.

"Not seeing any signs of anybody around here." The one named Brad says. "Hey !" He shouts. "Anybody here !" His voice travels across the sand.

Lyric stays as completely quiet as he can, prompting Gill to do it too.

"No response." The man mutters.

"Brad, look at this." Another female says. "There's something in here."

Lyric scowls.

"A briefcase?" One of the other males ask.

"Yeah." Says the female.

"Let me see." Brad says. There's the sound of it being handed around, then a click. "Locked. Hm, there's a name engraved on it, bit scuffed, though, hard to read."

Lyric feels the heavy key he'd secured around his wrist.

"What should we do?" Asks the female. "Someone obviously brought this out here."

It's quiet as the humans all think.

Brad, as he appears to be the leader, says. "Let's take it and the toma. If anyone is here, they wouldn't have just abandoned their shelter. They're probably long gone. Maybe if we unlock it, we can get a clue to who it belonged to. Let's do a quick search to see if we can find the owner around here, then head back."

Lyric breathes out, panic fueling him. That briefcase holds every shred of information about the two of them. If those humans see it, then they'd know they're hiding out there, they'd know and they'd come looking for them. They'd want to experiment on them. They'd hurt Gill. They'd hurt him. They can't open that briefcase.

Water manifests around lyric, swirling and shaping into sharp icicles; all of them pointing towards the humans. 

"Lyric." Gill whispers, panicked. "What're you doing? You can't !" She grabs his wrist tightly, pleading with him.

It's her that stops him. He wavers, the ice melting. He feels two minds inside of him. One, the protector. The other, the scared little boy. His face burns.

"Alright." The man, Brad, grunts. "Let's leave."

The sounds of the ropes harnessing the toma being cut and the animals wrangled follows, and after several minutes the humans leave.

The plants stand after they're sure the humans have left. Lyric clenches his fist, brows furrowed in anger. 

"They took the briefcase." Gill says. "Does that mean they're gonna learn about us?"

Lyric responds after a stretched pause. "No."

Gill tilts her head, surprised. "No? You said that the things in the briefcase would let the humans know all about both of us."

"It would."

"Then, why wouldn't they learn about both of us?"

"Because we're going to get it back." Lyric walks forward, stepping out from behind the rocks. 

Gill follows, her tiny legs much slower. "We are?"

"Yes." He looks into the distance, where they can just barely see the figures of the thieving humans and the tomas. "They're heading straight that way; if we follow them, we can get it back, before they open it." He gestures for her to follow him.

"Um, alright." Gill's voice is quiet in response.

Lyric furrows his brows, bringing a hand to his chin. "They took our toma; we're probably going to have to just be on foot. But we can catch them if we get moving." He looks back at her. "You ready then?"

She pauses. "Can I ask you something?"

"What, what is it?" Lyric asks; he sounds hurried.

Gill reconsider asking, but she needs to. "Were you going to hurt them?"

"Huh?" Lyric finally pauses.

"Before, your ice. Were you going to hurt those humans with that?" She sounds scared; not necessarily of Lyric, but of the possibility he might've done that had she not begged him to stop.

Lyric opens his mouth, closes it, having no answer. Would he have? He wanted to. It's not that he wanted to hurt them just because, but he saw no other option. He hated the mere thought of being captured. Despised thinking of Gill and him being experimented on like they'd been. He wouldn't let them do that. "I'm not sure. No? I, listen, it's." He sighs, ruffling his long hair. He walks back towards Gill and stands before her. "I'd do anything to keep us safe. But I won't hurt anyone unless it's necessary. It's all for us." He reaches out, cupping her cheek. If he needs to hurt someone to keep them safe, then he would. 

No one else would save them if he couldn't do it.

Gill seems worried, but loosens her stance. "Promise me it?" She hates the idea of somebody being hurt.

"I promise." He says.

Gill is quiet, then she accepts that promise. "Alright."

Lyric smiles. "Good. Now, we need to leave."

It took them a couple hours to reach where the humans had traveled, assuming they'd been right. A ship, half submerged and lodged in the sand. A few toma were harnessed outside.

Sneaking in took ages, trying not to get seen. Neither had truly explored any ship before, and had no idea of the layout. When they walked by a hallway that curved out of sight, Gill couldn't help but stop and stare, feeling something almost familiar. She had no idea it was the psychic connection between plants egging at her; she'd only been allowed near Lyric, never given the opportunity to open that ability fully with others similar to her. The young boy, another independent plant, locked in a room nearby was unrealized by either of them. Lyric urged her along.

They came to a door way, in which when they crept close they could see the broad back of a rather muscular man, bent above something he looked to be working on at the table he sat by. Near him, they could see the briefcase, locked. Lyric held in the sigh of relief.

Needing a way to get the man out of the room, Lyric summoned a little bit of water, shooting an icicle across the hall, the strange sound getting his attention. The plants hid around the corner, and as soon as he was out of that room they ran in and grabbed the briefcase and ran out. The man, Brad, stared in confusion at the melted water and chunks of ice seeping along the floor.

When they tried getting out without getting caught, a guard saw them turn the corner. He alerted the entire ship that there were two intruders, and a group of humans began chasing both of them; all of them looking out for the tiny intruders. Evading them, Lyric led them around the ship, happening upon a large empty room; rather, empty of humans, but full of rows upon rows of plants.

Neither had seen this many of their kind before, but the red color of their tanks seemed off. They stopped and took in the entire sight, before Lyric snapped out of it first and ran further along the walkway.

He questioned where they could go; surely the humans would find them here. Panicking, mind running, he looked to the ethereal plant floating above him. Part of him flinched at the idea that came to him. He knew of the psychic connection between all the plants, knew he could access it. Knew he could use it. If what he was thinking was right, then this could work out.

Dropping Gill's hand, he placed both of his palms on the glass.

"Lyric?" Gill asked him.

He focused on the plant before him. They were all already unstable in this place, if he could simply push it more.

The plant screamed. Not out loud, the two of them could hear it in their minds, as if she had screamed it into the actual air.

Gill recoiled, horrified. Lyric too quickly staggered back from the tank.

He knew he'd done that. Knew he was murdering her, but there was no chance to feel bad. The sounds of feet rushing to the room were heard, and they needed to hide.

Lyric grabbed Gill, slipping off the walkway under the railing and catching them with water. He hid them near the entrance underneath it as a lot of humans rushed into the room, standing by the plant and murmuring about what happened to it. A woman comes in with who sounds like the man from earlier. They talk quickly about the plant.

"Come quick, you've gotta see this !" A man yells.

When the man and woman run out, that's when Lyric chooses to swing back to the walkway, running out the door before it closed. Gill tugged along by the wrist, they make it back outside. They hop on one of the harnessed toma and ride quick and hard away from that ship and the screams of the plant.

Neither realize that they'd inadvertently won another independent plant his freedom while escaping.

Lyric breathes a hard sigh, just relieved they got out not captured and with the briefcase. "We made it." He says.

Gill is silent with her face pressed into Lyric's back, tears prick at her eyes not wholly from the sand kicked into them. "You promised no."

"What?" Lyric asks.

"You promised not to hurt anyone. You hurt her !" She nearly sobs.

Lyric scowls. He knows he did. Knows it felt awful to do. He does feel bad for her, but he is not sorry, he discovers. Because he did it for them. He did it to protect the only person to him worth protecting, Gill. He'd do it all again to save them. "I promised to only hurt someone if it was necessary. It was the only way out."

"It wasn't !" She yells, distraught at what they'd done.

"Do you trust me?" Lyric calls back at her.

She freezes. "What?"

"If you trust me," He says, hands gripping the toma's rope. "Then trust I only did it for us. There wasn't another way I could get us out with all the humans focused on capturing us. I had to." His eyes narrow, brow furrowed in slight sorrow. "I had to." He repeats, perhaps just to himself.

Gill stayed quiet. To her, she does trust him, but she knows they could've gotten out without causing harm there.

It's decided by them that their vehicle is too noticeable, and they choose to find a place to live that's hidden. After searching, they find a group of rocks hiding a cave system. This they choose as their own home.

The inside of the caves is lit by openings to the outside world, though it is sand and barren within. Lyric was alright leaving it as, but Gill wished to make it nicer. She uses her abilities to create flowers, grass, vines, all decorating the main part of the caves; it becomes lush and beautiful, soft sunlight filtering inside illuminating them all. But flora needs water. She convinces Lyric to lend his abilities, and in the center of the main cave he created a large pool of water. Her flora needed his water, and his water was purposeless without her flora.

They stayed away from humans for decades, having only each other. They took apart their ship and converted parts to be put into use around their home.

The plants matured, instead of looking like young kids, Lyric now appeared as if in his teens, and Gill early.

They occasionally had to hide from humans. One such time, Gill had wandered off on her own, fascinated exploring their surroundings. She noticed figures approaching, two humans. They rode toma, and out of fear, knowing what Lyric's said about humans, she hid behind a rock. The humans came closer, and Gill began to feel the same strange feeling she hadn't felt since they snuck into that ship to retrieve their briefcase. Something familiar, a psychic tug.

The humans stop nearby.

"What is it?" A voice, was it the same Brad as they'd heard before, asked.

There's a pause.

"Nothing." A young male responds.

As they ride away, Gill peaks out from her hiding spot, and she sees that man's back from before, as well as the young boy with his spikey, blond hair, riding into the sand.

In the decades they stayed completely hidden, the human communities grew, and they saw a town grow nearby. Lyric couldn't forget about the research they'd kept. The briefcase beckoned to him; the researcher put all of his energy into studying the two of them. What was the pain he put onto them for? Why would he do those experiments? Was there a point for it? He needed to know about that.

Lyric began diving into the research. He gained a greater understanding of what they are. But the records of their torture did nothing to answer his questions. He'd wanted something to justify it, but all he was greeted with was the selfish wanting of knowledge the researcher held, a genuine desire to make advancements for all humans, and unfeeling cruelty to the two plants he'd taken for experiments.

As towns grew and cities were established, they watched from a distance. Gill saw it with increasing longing. Lyric wanted them to fear humans, but she never could. 

Gill loved this world from the start. The warmth of the sand, the shining sun, the adorable toma, the glowing worms filling the skies, sharing the paradise she and Lyric created with him, she loves everything.

Humans were included within that. She was fascinated by what she saw. She wanted to know them closer, to actually speak with some of them and learn more, to befriend them too.

Gill couldn't stand it. After around fifty years of hiding, by now they both appeared as adults, where she would shyly suggest interacting with them, she finally approached Lyric with new determination.

"Lyric," she said. She takes a quick, grounding breath. "I think that we should meet some humans."

Lyric stops what he's doing, looking at her with a face of confusion and some revulsion. "What was that?"

She immediately drops some confidence and speaks quieter, eyes averted. "I was just thinking it's been a long time, you know?" She chews the inside of her lip, jumping on her heels a few times to get herself pumped. Her shoulders square and she looks at Lyric, passion in her gaze. "We should visit the humans who live nearby and see what they are like, it'd be interesting and I think they might be nice !" She blurts out before she chickens back out. 

Lyric approaches her. "You know what they did to us, yeah? You remember all those experiments? How we suffered for their desires?"

"For one man's desires. It wasn't all humans who did that to us, it was only one who chose to act how he did then. We never got to meet any other humans before. I'm sure they're not all like him."

"How can you know?"

"I can't for certain. But I believe. I believe fully that they aren't all the same as him. And we won't know for sure until we meet them." She plants her feet in the ground, ready to argue her case the more she continues this.

"Listen to yourself; you've always been to naive, as sweet as you always are." He groans.

"What's that mean?" She asks.

"It means no. We absolutely can't. Not a chance."

"Come on, please !"

Lyric waved his hands. "They're dangerous ! If they discover what we are, then we're going to be captured ! And I have to keep you safe !"

His voice raising makes her nervous, and she shrinks back a little; but she refuses to let this topic go this time. "We can be safe ! And it could benefit us to befriend them !"

Lyric groans, dropping his face. "This entire idea is stupid and just ridiculous entirely."

Stepping forward slightly, Gill puts her hands gently on Lyric's arms. "Lyric, please; listen." Lyric slowly looks at her. "I want this. I want to meet the humans. You trust me?"

"Of course." He quietly says.

"Then listen to me now, please. It's going to be worth it to give the humans a chance right now. If we can learn about them and befriend them, there's nothing to fear then. We were hurt, but there's nothing that says everybody is out to get us. There were others like us. Other independents. He said that there was a woman who loves them. Loves them enough to give them names and protect them. You know what that means? There's a chance that he was the exception, not the rule to what humans are like, and I want to take that. I want to believe they're kind and worth getting to know a lot better. Please, Lyric, think."

Lyric is silent. He wants to protect them and deep inside genuinely fears the humans, he thinks getting close is a terrible idea. But she's earnest and wants this a lot. He is terrible at saying no to those beautiful, innocent eyes that she wields.

"We stay for only a little bit. We make sure no one figures out what we are. We keep out interactions minimal. Is that understood?" He says.

Gill brightens. "It is understood." She squeals, hugging Lyric tightly with a big grin. "Thank you, Lyric ! Thank you thank you !"

Soon, they found themselves outside the town. The buildings were makeshift, and the construction wasn't amazing. But there were people. A fair amount, more than either had seen before. All milling around, sitting in the shade the buildings provided across the ground.

Lyric swallowed, feeling like he was on the precipice of a big beast's lair. Gill felt herself full of nervousness, but excitement too. The two plants held hands tightly. They gave each other enough confidence to walk into town together.

"Remember, now," Lyric whispered under his breath, face obscured under his hood. "We're human as long as we're here."

Gill was partially hidden by her own hood. "Got it, humans." She says quietly.

Humans walk by, most keeping their heads lowered. They do get some looks as they move deeper into town. She keeps her head moving, taking everything in with stunned awe. It was amazing. She couldn't take it in quick enough; she wanted to see more, everything. Looking at the humans, they delighted her. This is exactly why she'd been begging to come.

She loves Lyric, it's just that only having limited experiences with others for decades has made her incredibly curious coupled with her earnest love for everything she sees. This place is only a relatively short bit from their home, but it felt alien to her.

They came to an area with some stalls, varying types lining the walkway they followed there. Gill's attention went to one showing something rather strange. Strange little cubes on some sticks, and a larger piece of the same substance to the side. She stops them before it, gazing curiously. 

The woman behind the strange stall smiles kindly. "Hello, kiddies. Haven't seen you around here."

Gill flounders trying to respond, but Lyric jumps quickly to answer her. "We're just traveling."

"All by yourself?" She asks, concerned.

"Yes, it's just us."

"My word, that's dangerous, isn't it? Two young things like yourself shouldn't be traveling all on your own in this dangerous area."

"We're alright." Lyric says.

The woman gives a confused but soft smile. "Well, lots of folks have things I know better than to pry into, huh? I'm rather worried if you're by yourselves here, either way, despite all that said." She thinks briefly. "Here, take some, on the house." She grabs two of the sticks and holds them out the children.

"What's this?" She asks.

"Worm meat." The woman says. "You kids must be hungry."

"Hungry?" Gill quietly asks. Ah, he'd said something about being hungry; it's when humans know to eat more food, something she and Lyric haven't felt. Plants typically have no need for food and water. She grins. He never let them try food. "Thank you ! I've never eaten before !" She takes the food from her.

The woman looks confused. "What do you mean by that?"

Lyric puts his hand on his face.

Gill jumps. She quickly back pedals to fix her little slip. "Um, well, just, I mean that it's been such a while since we've had, uh, food that it feels like I've never eaten before !"

The woman, no less confused by these two strange children, accepts it. "Well then, enjoy !"

The two children examine their food; Gill excitedly, Lyric unsurely.

Gill takes a bite, tasting such flavors for her first time. "It's delicious !" She'd heard him use that word when eating something he seemed to enjoy before.

Lyric takes a bite, chewing and judging. He can't help but be taken in too, tasting this food. His eyes shine despite his withholdings.

The woman is bashful, glad to see them enjoying it. "It's hardly fancy; ain't got a lot of seasonings 'round here, but thank you, I'm glad you like it."

Gill and Lyric wander across the pathway while eating, sitting in some shade from a building.

They watch people walking by. The food truly is nothing exceptional, but it's special. When they finish, she grins. "That was good. I want some more."

Lyric looks at her. "Should I get you more then?"

Gill almost says yes, but she stops and thinks. The humans need this food, and she knows it's somewhat difficult to obtain in this sort of place. If she takes more, she'd be taking something right from them. "I shouldn't; they need it."

Lyric says nothing. He seems to be thinking quietly. Then, he stands, and walks back to the stall.

"Excuse me." He says, looking like a wide eyes child. "I'm rather hungry, could I have just one more, please?"

The woman smiles. "Sure, of course."

Lyric returns with the food, handing it to Gill. "Here you are."

Gill grins, taking it from him. She knows it's probably wrong to eat it, but she enjoyed it a lot. Another won't hurt at all. "Thank you, then."

They explore the town more after she eats. As it gets into nighttime, Lyric figures they should go. But right as he's about to convince her, they hear some cheering. Investigating, they see some humans starting a large bonfire, voices flowing loudly in the night air. The humans have chosen to throw a party, and Gill is swept into its energy. Lyric narrows his eyes, trying to pull her away. She barely acknowledges his protests. The smiles she sees entice her, and everyone treats her as if she belonged amongst them.

There's laughter and food, something called alcohol which is her first time tasting something gross but the humans enjoy, and there is love for their surroundings. There is love in the ways they party. Soon, she notices some of the humans doing something strange all encircling the fire.

"What's that?" She asks someone.

"They're dancing !" The man says, raising his alcohol high above their heads with a splash outside his jug, laughing.

"Dancing?" She asks. Watching them, their dancing entrances her. It seems wonderful, almost  somewhat hypnotic. She wants to know what it's like.

Someone dancing sees her watching and beckons to her, and she happily runs in to join them.

Linking arms, she dances around the bonfire, exchanging partners with the rhythm of the music. Her smile is big, and the fire light performs its own joyful dance along her features, her long hair flowing around her body.

Lyric watches from the shadows, arms crossed in front of him. A nasty feeling lurks within watching her. He loves seeing her happy, but despises seeing her immersed amongst these humans. She should be with him, the thought repeats.

She spots him by himself, and gestures for him to come. It takes some, a lot, of convincing, but he does. They dance in the bonfire light. Gill's smile shows her joy, and Lyric feels that this is what's right. Her attention for him alone, her smile beaming at him, her hands held by his. This is what is right, he knows this now.

After that, Gill began insisting they visit town more. Lyric begrudgingly followed, agreeing. She made friends. She learned more. She loved everything. It brought her excitement and felt brilliant.

Lyric grew more and more bitter towards the townspeople. He saw what they were doing. They were stealing her; all of them wanted to take her from him. They put her in harms way. The more she mingled, the more they may discover what they are. They would hurt her. Yes, yes that was it. He had to protect her. Satisfying her childish desires was one matter, but allowing her to get this close was another. If he focused on that, his own fears of getting hurt if they were discovered stayed shoved away. It wasn't his own selfish desires to keep her close and his alone, afraid of the one being he worships being stripped from him forever, no. It wasn't that he needed her to only have her eyes trained on him, no. It wasn't that he was scared of her loving anything more than him, no. This was for her, this was to protect her, this was to worship her.

Lyric researched about plants, what was possible between them, the information he'd studied for decades. Gill wasn't sure what he was working on in secret.

She'd begun going into town alone. She spent hours talking about the humans. She played amongst the toma and the worms. Lyric stayed within their home.

He despised it. It wasn't right. What is right is him and her as a pair. They needed no one else. She needed him. He needed her. This wasn't what was right.

This was wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

WRONG.

He hated it.

He needed to keep her close, to protect her. But with her love for the humans, she wouldn't leave them. He needed a way to make her no longer desire being with them and to be just with him. Was this wrong? What he was doing went behind her back. Would she despise him for it? If she learned? No, nothing that would keep her with him could be wrong. This was right, he was sure of  it completely. There was one way to ensure she would think of only him and not those humans. If what he was thinking was correct, this would work. He assured himself. This was right.

This was right.

"What're you doing, Lyric?" Gill asked him. She felt like she'd barely seen him for like weeks.

Lyric smiled. "I just finished a project I've been working on for a bit now."

She tilts her head. "Yeah? Good ! What is it?"

He says nothing at first, but walks towards Gill, and hugs her. "I made something great for us." He hugs her tight.

"Ah?" She says, confused but happy for him. His hug is tight, though, it's almost uncomfortable. "That's nice."

"You've been with the humans a lot." He says.

"Yeah, I love them."

He hugs her tighter. "I know that. It disgusts me." He says, voice too light.

"What?" She asks, stunned.

"They're taking you away. Its wrong. All we need is to stay together. But they've twisted you. It's not your fault; I know you'd never leave me. It's just that they've stuck bad things in your thoughts. I figured out how you forget them all, now."

"Lyric, you should stop. What are you talking about. Talk to me."

"We're going to be together, without anyone interfering. Soon, they won't be anything to you, not a mere memory to you." His hug is tight. It hurts her.

"Lyric, stop this." She pleads weakly.

Lyric shifts his arms and holds her around her waist and lifts her off the ground. "This is for the both of us, our love."

"Lyric !" She shouts, struggling in his tight grasp. Lyric was much more muscular, much bigger than her. He'd never wanted her to lift a finger, small and precious as she is. 

He carried her to where he'd been crafting his secret project. Within, he'd stolen parts from spaceships and towns, and put together a plant capsule, a large tank full of liquid, and it beckoned.

She fought but could do nothing, he was too strong for her, she was weak. Much too weak to fight him. The attempts unacknowledged.

He took her above the tank, and opening the doors, dropped her in. She fell with a splash into the liquid. As it filled her, her eyes opened wide; her markings glowed. Lyric manipulated the liquid, it drove within her. Flowed into her mind, deep. Where he washed it, pure and clean; he polished her. Her memories washed swiftly out by the current.

This was what is right and what is best.

When be returned hours later and pulled her back out, she dripped with the liquid, slowly reopening her eyes again momentarily.

She looked around, eyes innocent, wide. "Who am I?" She asks. "Where am I?" She saw her surroundings. "Who are you?" She looked into Lyric's face. Her hand held in his where she sat on the ground, him leaning above her and smiling.

"I am Lyric, and I am your best friend."

There was nothing from before awakening that she remembered. She knew nothing. How incredibly perfect.

#self shipping #self ship #self ship community #oc x canon #self insert #self ship writing #self insert oc #dapper writes #dapper s/i: trigun

[druidgroves]

ok here it is my whisper/deacon brain rot for their web weaving is under the cut. i'm mentally unwell about them.

1. trust no one

this one is pretty obvious. it's deacon's first and favorite lesson. little does he know that after coming out of vault 111, it was greta's modus operandi as well.

2. vulnerability is the last thing i want you to see in me, but the first thing i look for in you.

this quote was more deacon-focused, but it does apply to both of them. upon "first" meeting (that was face to face), deacon is still looking for any signs of cracking in whatever façade greta has created for herself by this point. he wants to pick people apart, but makes sure that no one can do the same to him. for greta, she isn't too great at emotions after being thawed out (she became a lot more withdrawn in that department, despite pretending to be an open book). she'll make sure she can pinpoint your vulnerabilities before you're even aware of them, just so you don't notice her own.

3. i don't understand your specific kind of crazy but i do admire your total dedication to it

this is peak whisper/deacon while doing shit for the railroad. they work together extremely well, in part due to whisper's career as a spy before the bombs (of which deacon has no idea about but he has Suspicions). a big part of their relationship is trying to outdo the other, constant one-upmanship; who can tell the most outlandish lies, put on the most well-crafted personas, or pull off the wildest stunt while clearing the way for safehouses. they are both insane.

4. i want to take a bite out of you, figure out what you're thinking

while working together, they obviously get to know each other--or they get to know as much of each other as they are willing to show. it's both fun and frustrating for them with neither wanting to fully give.

5. our eyes had the most devilish affair; meeting in secrecy in a room full of people.

these two dance around their feelings like they're legally obligated to, but they'll just say that neither of them have done anything about it because of "anti-fraternization" rules put in place by their fearless leader.

6. the nonsense has escalated

this was there purely because their nonsense (feelings) escalates. that's it.

7. the great pretender

i always see this as a deacon song But it fits both of them. they are both extremely lonely people in similar and different ways and put on different masks to compensate.

8. not because i don't trust you, but because i can't bare for you to see me as i really am.

another one showing how much they share and how much they don't. at this point in their story, greta has come clean about a lot of stuff: her real name, her career as a spy, looking for a son she isn't even sure she wants to find, as well as her familial connections to the calverts (who i argue could be partially to blame for the way the war went tbh). she has always lived with a lot of self-loathing and that's part of why she is the way she is, putting on different personas to hide the fact that she hates who she is. for deacon, this is when he tells her about the up deathclaws, about barbara, and about joining the railroad. they finally get to see the other's vulnerabilities.

9. sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.

in trying to understand each other, seeing each other's ugliest parts, they find that they might never understand each other completely. it doesn't quite drive a wedge between them as much as things are a little awkward between two people allergic to talking about their emotions.

10. how to disappear completely and never be found

so deacon talks about wanting to "bug out" and leave sometimes, but in this case, greta is the one who bounces after destroying the institute. she's got a lot to deal with internally and needs her space to process.

11. an exercise in love: i have left the door unlocked, just in case

deacon won't admit it, but he's always on the lookout for her after she disappears. he listens for her laugh, the sound of deliverer, anything, but she doesn't show for a while. but if he knows anything about his whisper, she'll come back again, and he'll be there waiting.

#rae.txt #ship: a relief and a horror to be known ( greta x deacon ) #if any of this sounds off it's bc i haven't traveled with deacon in game in a hot minute lmfao

[quandaryqueen]

Evermore III

Year one Jonathan Crane X Reader

After Batman's visit, you opted to make an investigation of your own to locate your former husband's next target.

Part I, Part II

The promised sleep was forgotten in favour of dealing with paper. Not from the school, but from the recent news reports. Recalling and recounting your days with him after five years shoving him at the back of your head had you launched and driven to know what he was doing. To help the Batman and the city, but deeply within, to sate your own need to know what he has been doing and how you can stop it.

With whatever he's doing, killing people you knew, that this operation was something personal. And if your intuition serves you right, he might go after the parents who had abandoned him. Or perhaps even you.

Unsatisfied with the content in the news, you resort to digging up old relics of the past. There were some of his belongings he didn't take with him, several of them were of journals, documentations of whatever. Along with those box, was another box kept locked, leading you to unlock them in your kitchen counter with various methods.

Using kitchen utensils and when it didn't work in your favour, you gave up and searched for the tool box. You've no idea where you last used and placed it. Out of frustration, you opted to slam the bloody box against the wall, successfully opening it. The contents scatter as a result, along with trinkets and memorabilias.

Upon closer inspection, you soften. There were envelopes, love letters. Your letters addressing Jonathan. You remember writing them when you were out of town for a seminar with the university and you know how he gets lonely, so you write him various letters to keep him company. He becomes a touch irritable when you're not around, says the other professors and students. You pegged him as the sentimental type, and you weren't really all that shock to find your letters locked away in the same fashion as you locked away his. Although, his letters were now buried beneath relics of the past since the divorce. Along with the old envelopes, were a variety of trinkets. Stones, brooches, marbles, pendants... You had a penchant handing him items and musing about how they looked pretty during walks. You thought he'd simply pocket them and throw it away later, you never knew he kept it close to his heart.

"No, focus Y/N." You shook your head, putting the items away back in the box and pushing it aside. Your task at hand was to know what he was up to, not to reminisce.

Opening the very first journal among the pile of twelve more, you began to read. As expected, they were of his studies about the enigmatic mind, the complexities and intricacies of the human psyche, fear. The journals were out of chronological sequence, maybe he had taken some of his journals after all. As you read his scrawls, you can hear his voice reading the texts. His eloquent self writing these amid the night, lit by a single light on his desk. There were fond mentions of you, how he often feels guilty to leave you by your lonesome to keep the bed warm, only to then justify himself that the importance of this research of his will make you proud of him.

Then, there were a sequence of equations, chemicals. He began detailing the trials and tribulations of the little experiments he was performing. Taking a journal of your own, you began to take notes from it. It was probable that these were mere prototypes, but you figured you could do something with it.

September 8

Failed once again. Somewhere in the formula had gone awry and I've yet to find its flaws. Nonetheless, there were significant findings. Test subject #21 showed signs of delusions, though it only lasted for two minutes before they recovered from the recent concoction.

Unfortunately, I cannot accompany my Y/N tonight. There's more work to do.

Jonathan met students after classes to test his formulas in exchange for extra credits. Reading through his logs, you feel yourself sink. You never knew that he kept such a thing to you. You didn't think that he did those things. Did you even know him at all? You continue to push forward in spite of the turmoil brewing within you.

All night long, you've read through twelve journals, through five hundreds of logs and in your own notes were haphazard and unorganized texts of the chemicals and equations of he had written over the years of research. His very last entry was a potent mixture, though he knows he can still improve it. With this old journal having his last formula, you didn't doubt that he continues to advance with his mixture as of now. But, you wanted to have an idea about the structure of his chemicals.

The last mixture in his journal listed his last examination with a neighbor of yours. Listing off familiar symptoms... Symptoms you've felt yourself. His very last experiment, though you've yet to know whether it was an accident or not, you were exposed to it before your separation.

It was dawn when you finished reading through it and getting what you needed to know. You gather your notes, his journal and some other things, your feet having a mind of their own took you to multiple destination. Without an ounce of sleep and caffeine in your veins, you manage to go to laboratory of the school and concocted an antidote of sorts for his last mixture. You doubted that it would do something to his more recent, advance concoction, but at least you have something.

"Professor L/N! What in the name are doing here instead of teachi—?!"

"Not now, Dean Halsey." You brush pass the fuming Dean, your voice devoid of care as you lead yourself away from the school and yet again, to another destination.

You were going to the mother-in-law you never had.

Knowing him for decades, whether you didn't know this side of him, you hope that with some deduction you'll know what he does next. It's either his father he'll go after next, or his mother. He's told you about his mother, Karen Keeny. He didn't know anything about her, but the fact that she ran away after giving birth to him. You didn't know where she is, but at least you have a name. Last you've heard, she was somewhere in Latham.

Getting your car refuelled, you headed to Latham. Navigating your way through the vast environment only powered by caffeine and determination. Though it drawbacks had your tenacious mind relentless with the intrusive thoughts and not to mention, how your mind processes things in amidst the sleep depravity. But there was no time to sit stagnant, you will be going to Latham and you are going to arrive there.

Route 5, Latham GA, says the locals. You searched for a Karen Keeny and they only knew of one Karen in the residence. Maybe she got a new start, you thought, but there was a lingering pessimism that perhaps you've got the wrong person. You don't even know what she looks like.

You pull over with your head spinning. You spot a house in the middle of a vast field. You leave your car whilst shrugging on your coat and securing some items in there. Though it was summer, the breeze of the countryside hits different than in the city. It almost felt like the one in your old home in Georgia. You sighed. What's gotten you nostalgic all the sudden? You tread on the property with your chest hammering.

You didn't thought to detail your plans to get here. It was a mere act of spontaneity if anything. You were no Batman, nor a police officer. You weren't trained for combat, but you have a few experience with your athletic background. If anything, you can take down Jonathan if you were to encounter him, but his chemicals had you second guessing your abilities. But he should know by now that you were as stubborn as a mule.

You arrive at the doorsteps and before you knew it, you were knocking against the door, and someone had answered the door. A beautiful woman, frazzled and with a baby girl on her hip greeting you with a wary welcome. You didn't see any of Jonathan's features from his mother, he must've looked more like his father.

"Good evening, how many I help you?" She asks, rocking the child to sleep.

"Is Miss Karen Keeny home?"

"That would be me. Who might you be?"

You were rendered speechless. You've never known her until now, nor does she even know the son she abandoned. Nevertheless, you put on a polite smile.

"Y/N L/N. A professor of Gotham University. May I come in?"

You see her kind smile fade for a moment. She must've hope that she can get rid of you as immediately as possible. But she steps aside allows you in.

"Thank you, Miss. I just um..." How does one even put this? "Have you recently received odd letters?"

She squints at you, lowering the baby girl in her crib. Before she can answer, a door slams open and there comes a man, wearing a denim overall. He didn't notice you, instead his sole attention only on the woman. He must be the father of her new child.

"Where is it Karen? The goddamn deed to great granny's Victorian mansion?" He booms.

Alarmed, you stood from yours seat, eyes darting between the arguing pair. She meekly defends herself, claiming not having to see any deed. Before he can lay a hand on her, you stood in front of her, holding out your arms to block him.

"Sir, I advise you stop that before I call the authorities—!"

A fist collides with your guts, causing you to double over in pain. You can hear Karen scream, as she assists you with your balance, when the man sent her toppling back with a backhand. You were preparing to retaliate, you were suddenly met with a gun pointed at you. You glanced up at the man with wide eyes.

"I don't know who the hell do you think you are, but you have some nerve— AGH!"

You watch the gun fall from his grasp and fall over. Quickly stepping aside, you saw a knife sticking on his back. You feared to look up and when you did— your Jonathan behind a mask.

"Oh. What an unexpected company." He was particularly dismissive of you, his attention then shifts to his mother, who remain on the floor, paralysed in fear. "Gracious mother, you're a worse housekeeper than granny!"

You watch him retrieve the gun that's fallen from the man's grasp and point it at you, and in his other hand, was a canister of sorts.

"Positively stinks in here. Nevermind, we'll take care of that." He began to spray it.

You step to Karen's height and put a handkerchief atop her nose, whilst you covered your own with your sleeve.

"Who in the name of God—" Karen spoke amid the shock.

"No, in the name of Gerald Crane... And yourself. It's your baby boy, mother. Jonathan? But you wouldn't know about that. Great granny Keeny named me after the son she never got to torture." You watch his movements closely, your breath hitching when you realise that he noticed the baby in the crib.

"Jonathan—!" you call, only to be interrupted.

"—And what have we here? Oh dear,"

"No! Please!" Karen reaches out.

"That's the trouble with a bad seed, isn't it mother?"

"Jonathan, don't!" You find yourself stuck in place when he suddenly points the gun at his sleeping half-sister.

"— it just grows on and on..."

Finally finding your sense, you dove for his wrist and get into a tousle with him. The gun had gone, sliding away from his grasp and you kicked it away before he can reach for it. At the process of the scuffle, you manage to yank his mask off, his haggard self under the guise of the fear induced by the mask. After having been with him, all you see was the boy rejected by everyone. You had him under you, straddling his chest, pushing your palms against his throat. He squrims under you, legs kicking and arms flailing.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" you turn away for a moment, to see the mother and her baby girl run out, when you were then met with a prick on your side.

Glancing down, you see a syringe and his thumb pressing the plunge. The effects weren't immediate, your hold remained tight but then you grew faint. Jonathan takes advantage of it by tossing you aside and leaving your dazed self on the floor.

"Oh Y/N... Ever so persistent as a roach like you've always been. Good to know that some things don't change."

You glanced up, seeing no sign of Karen nor the child. They must have bolted out just as you said. There was only you and your Jonathan.

"Something within me felt you'd be somehow caught up in this without my knowing. And here you are. Perhaps you've seen the news, or I suppose it was the Bat that visited you. Moreover, you've extrapolated my next destination and made use of your long forfeited athleticism, thinking you've successfully foiled my plans. You must be so proud." He talks condescendingly, pacing around you with a hand behind his back. "Back in the old days, you confided with me about your fears. How I was the only one you could ever entrust with these vulnerabilities. You must feel so foolish now. Hmm, let's see..."

As he began ticking off your list of fears, you find yourself being slowly reduced into a paralysed heap. With a half a wit, you pull your very own syringe from your coat pocket, taking its cap off before pricking yourself and pressing the plunger steadily. Your surroundings that you once thought of closing in on you began to feel more grounded to reality and you can once see and move normally.

Jonathan glances at you, shocked that you were strggling to sit up instead of being frozen. "What? How did—"

"You taught me well." Although your voice was slurred, it carried a certain power. "Developed my very own concoction based on your last log in your old journals, powerful enough to overcome this new dose."

He scoffs, watching your trembling arms barely carrying you. "You are referring to the same formula that had you confined in the hospital for days, correct? That concoction is nothing to this new formula. You're bluffing."

"I might be," you chortle amidst the pain and struggle, you manage to lift yourself off the ground with the assistance of the nearby table. "But there's something I will not be bluffing about."

Reaching to retrieve something from your coat, Jonathan wasn't expecting you to be carrying a gun of yours as well. He scowls at you, though he can't deny that it came to him as a shock you'd have a weapon. Better yet, how you'd have the gall to shoot him.

"I've read your little excursions with your fear in a bottle... I was able to deduce that you'd render them paralysed, giving you the upper hand with their lack of mobility. However, I am a different story. I'm on my feet and pointing a gun at you. This must be the first that you're carrying a two-way conversation with your victims." With the smallest movement, the gun clicks in your hands.

"You wouldn't," he hisses, his sneer meeting your empty gaze.

"Oh but I would." You refuse to lower the gun, nor your stance. "Fear... It's funny, Jonathan. All the things you listed that you considered my fears, my Achilles heel... They didn't affect me as much. What am I scared of above all things? You."

Tears break from the long-held reservoir from within, your voice cracking but you remain upright as a paralysed person can.

"Specifically, my love for you. I'm scared of how much I love you. How unconditional it is, no matter what you do. How I still find myself to want to kiss you, embrace you... Even if you killed all those people and I know it's wrong... But I love you. I still love you...

"Have you no idea... How I'd dream of you by your side of the bed, how I'd spot your figure amid the crowd but when I'd approach you, I'd be met with disappointment as it was a mirage of a stranger who happens share semblance with you. I can hear your voice at the back of my head when I'm alone. I can't stand to be near the book shelves, I couldn't find touch your side of the bed, your side of the wardrobe... Everything reminded me of you and it hurts that you were no longer there, it consequently rendered me directionless, I follow every orders from higher-ups even if it was abuse, just to ignore the deep seated yearning...

"My love for you has driven me to this self-destructive path. And I've tried to shove the thoughts of you, our memories, our moments together, out of fear that I'd cling on to you for too long. You needn't use the mask, nor the toxins. The thought of my unconditional love for a man who's done heinous deeds scares me."

He remains tense, though not from anger. As he sees the waterfall beneath your eyes, he felt his walls crumble with their own weight. He never wanted to involve you in this, because he knew he wouldn't bear to do it. As of now, he can easily overpower you. It would be a struggle but it was clear who'd be the winning contender. Yet, he couldn't move.

"Y/N... Please, I—"

"Please... You're making this difficult..." You sniffle, wiping the cuff of your sleeves under your nose. "How did it ever come this...? All I wanted was to love you." Your finger brushes the trigger and you held the gun with conviction. "So long, my Jonathan."

You pull the trigger. At that moment, you saw nothing but black. The ringing persists in your ears from the gunfire and when you regain your vision, Jonathan was lying in the floor, and Karen stood behind him with a floorboard plank, panting. Taking a few steps forward, you intend to examine Jonathan, to hold him one last time. However before you can reach him, you fall to your knees, succumbing to the sleep deprivation mixed with his potent, more recent formula penetrating through your bloodstream. He wasn't wrong when he said this was stronger than the last log he has written down in his journals.

You can only reach for his hand and squeeze it, before your eyes closed.

When Batman arrived, he was already too late.

To be continued →→→

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