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#another idea I don't currently have time to write
thatacotargirl · 4 hours
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Shadows and Surprises (6)
Part 6 of Azriel x Reader fanfic!
Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.
Warnings: none.
Tag list - @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @minnieoo @st4r-girl-official
@courtofjurdan @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @impossibelle
@mybestfriendmademe @hauntedstudentobservationus
Azriel's POV
"There is nothing that needs to be done, Azriel".
Rhysand was trying to reassure the pacing Azriel that you were, indeed, safe in Velaris. He had provided you with unconditional refuge in the city in case your father or uncle tried to have you removed back to Illyria.
"She has refuge here, and they have no claim to her anyway. She is safe in Velaris, as is the child".
Azriel still felt the panic deep in his bones, and felt them shake when he was reminded of his child. It wasn't only you that needed protection now, it was his sweet unborn baby.
"Neither Darius nor Devlon can do anything about this", Cassian reassured him, but it didn't stop Azriel's pacing.
"We need to do something about this Rhys, he injured her, her cut off her wings".
"Az, believe me, if we could go and take them to the Hewn City right now I'd do it in a heartbeat - but we need to do this strategically. And we can't hurt y/n in the process".
Azriel knew Rhysand was right, but it didn't make it any easier to accept. However, fighting with his brother wasn't going to help him either, and he needed all the support he could get right now, even if he found it hard to admit that. He let his head sag in resignation that, right now, he could do nothing more.
"I need to speak with you both, actually".
Azriel raised his head to look at his High Lord, who looked paler and more withdrawn than usual.
"Feyre is in Velaris".
-
Y/N's POV
After another morning spent training with Cassian before he went for a meeting with Rhysand, you were exhausted. Cassian was careful to make sure you stayed within your level of comfort and kept hydrated, but there was no denying that being pregnant and trying to exercise with an Illyrian warrior was a tough feat.
You walked through the House of Wind to find it surprisingly quiet; with Azriel having joined Cassian in Rhysand's office for the meeting. It was a rare opportunity to find yourself in peace and quiet, with the three males doting on you every time you walked into a new room, so you figured you'd make the most of it and enjoy a quiet afternoon in the living room with a book.
You walked in and froze. There, sat on one of the sofas, was a female you had never seen before and who looked equally as petrified to have run into you.
"Hi, I'm y/n", you offer, keeping your distance from the female whose fear scented the air so strongly you had to hold back a gag.
"Feyre", she replied.
"Are you here with?....." you gesture behind you, trying to figure out why she was currently sat in the living room.
"Rhysand".
"Ah".
You avoid each other's eyes as you stand in awkward silence, not knowing how best to address the situation. It was at that moment that your unborn baby decided to make a move for the pair of you, and gave you a gentle kick. It didn't feel like much, maybe just a gas bubble, but one discernible enough that you knew it was the life inside you. You gasp and your hand flew to your stomach. Although your belly was hidden under the jumper you were wearing, you knew the scent of pregnancy was noticeable to everyone, and you watched as Feyre jumped into action.
"Are you ok?", she asked, reaching out towards you but not quite touching you.
"I think, I think the baby moved, maybe, or maybe it was gas, or both? I don't know I don't know what it's meant to feel like", you laugh as you hear your voice getting higher and higher with excitement and panic. Moments like this made your pregnancy feel so much more real.
You looked at Feyre, whose eyes had softened and fear had dissipated. Her hand was still outstretched in the air, so you decided to reach forward to take it and place it on your bump. At that moment, your baby decided to throw in another kick, and Feyre gasped as she too felt the very, very tiny flutter of your stomach.
"You're the first person to feel the baby kick", you smile at her. She returns with a warm smile of her own, her hand still resting on your stomach.
-
It is sometime later, the two of you sat engrossed in conversation, when the males walk into the room. You peer around the edge of the sofa and see Rhysand standing tall, shoulders back, face pale. He looked worried, stressed, and you can only guess it is because of Feyre. You giggle, the mighty High Lord being taken for a loop by the small female sat opposite you.
"I see you've met Feyre", he says, walking to stand in front of you both. Azriel and Cassian follow.
"I have, she's wonderful!", you exclaim, giving Feyre a beaming smile, which she gladly returns. Feyre looks at the Illyrians with apprehension, but you're pleased that the scent of her fear is nowhere to be found - if not for her, but for your own nausea.
Rhys looks pleased that you seem to have taken Feyre under your wing.
"Feyre will be staying here for the foreseeable future".
You sense a tension in the atmosphere, but you don't pry. It's not your place if they don't wish to talk about why Feyre is here and why Rhysand is standing before you both looking constipated. Cassian must notice the tension too, because he jumps into the conversation.
"Dinner, anyone?"
-
Mor wasn't around, so dinner was solely for the 3 males, you, and Feyre. You deliberately sat Feyre at the edge of the table with only yourself next to her, if only to comfort her. Azriel sat opposite you, Rhys opposite Feyre, and Cassian at the head of the table. Conversations were kept light, no mention of Feyre's sudden appearance in Velaris was made, nor any mentions of yours and Azriel's relationship. Feyre hadn't asked who fathered your baby, and you had no idea how to explain the situation, so you were grateful it hadn't come up.
You were talking to Feyre about a book you had both loved, when you felt a wisp of something in your hair. You reach your hand up and pull it back with surprise, as a shadow had wrapped itself around your wrist. You looked at Azriel, who looked equally as shocked.
Suddenly, a flurry of shadows entangled themselves in your hair, around your limbs, and brushing up against your stomach. You could see Azriel trying to draw them back, becoming more and more frustrated at their ignoring him, and you couldn't help the laugh that came out. Watching the notorious Spymaster of the Night Court flustered because his shadows were disobeying him was funnier than you cared to admit. You could see Rhys and Cassian trying to stifle their laughs, and Feyre watching intently as the shadows drew your hair up into different hairstyles and played with your necklace.
"They're ok, Az. Let them be", you cooed, letting the shadows dance around your fingers. Azriel gave up trying to command them back to him, and instead indulged in watching the way you interacted with them, almost like you were playing with them.
A few darted off out of the room and came back a few moments later holding onto a purple paper bag. You saw the way that Azriel paled and lunged for the bag, but the shadows dodged, dropping the bag on your lap instead. You looked up to Azriel, his eyes wide, and thanked the shadows for bringing it to you.
"Is this for me?", you asked. He nodded, but you could clearly see he was uncomfortable. You decided he'd been through enough tonight.
"Thank you, and thank you sweet shadows" you cooed at them, placing the bag on the floor. If it was a gift, Azriel clearly wasn't ready for you to have it, so you weren't going to embarrass him by opening it at the table in front of everyone.
"Dessert?" you asked, smiling at Feyre, trying to change the conversation. Azriel looked at you gratefully as Cassian pounced on the chocolate marble cake that appeared on the table.
-
You had subtly handed the bag back to Azriel at the end of dinner before departing for your bedroom. You were even more exhausted now, having not been able to get in an afternoon nap. You showed Feyre to her room, gave her a few of your favourite books that she hadn't read and a glass of water, and had settled in to your own bed. Just as you went to switch off your light, you heard a knock at the door.
"Come in", you called, thinking it might be Feyre. The Illyrian wings that filled the doorway told you otherwise.
"Az?" you asked, sitting up in bed. Azriel was standing in the door, clutching the bag in his hand.
"You can have this now. I didn't know when to give it to you, but I guess the shadows want you to have it today". He handed you the bag and you took it happily.
"They've never done that, you know".
"Done what?"
"Disobeyed me to go to someone else. They've never done that. They seemed enthralled by you".
You chuckle.
"Maybe because they know I'm carrying your baby?". Azriel looked away wistfully, before nodding.
"Yeah, that must be it".
You pulled the tissue paper out of the bag before your hands touched soft fabric. You pulled out a small bundle of black and unfurled it to reveal a teeny, tiny baby grow. The back had small slits to fit small wings and it adopted on a celestial pattern - with the words "Our Little Star" in silver embroidery on the front.
"I know you wanted the first piece of clothing the baby had to be special, I hope I didn't overstep".
The tears that had lined your eyes now spilled, and you opened your arms to engulf him in a hug.
"You didn't, Az. This is beautiful, thank you". You stayed like that for a few minutes, holding each other, before Azriel stepped back.
"I'll let you get some sleep".
"Ok, thank you again Az".
He smiled and left your bedroom. Your eyes fell to the beautiful baby grow and you held it to your chest, feeling more love than you had ever felt in your entire life. As if feeling it too, you felt another little flutter, and smiled to yourself.
You carefully placed the baby grow on your dresser and settled back down, your eyes heavy. As you lulled into a deep sleep, you felt the gentle caress of a shadow stroking your arm and, once you were asleep, it nuzzled itself into your open hand.
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heademptie · 2 days
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Scrapes and Bruises
CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFAE III (2023) DRABBLE HANDLER! READER, UNDECIDED/READER: 
cw: mentions of death, hospitals. mild depictions of violence (one punch is thrown) mentions of mental illness (PTSD). [I don't know if there other warnings I should add]
a/n: the writing is incosistent because the idea got away from me a bit. unedited ramblings. there are definatly military and medical inacuraces, and if i make this a proper fic/fic series there will be more. im leaning towards making this a price x reader fic because he's my recent brainrot. the title is also subject to change.
   Handler! Reader who used to work in the field until they suffered an injury that made active field work too difficult, instead taking up a desk job, occasionally training recruits in the basics. Handler! Reader works hard, doing the rare, simple job out in the field, and eventually gets promoted to a handler position. A contact for soldiers doing confidential, dangerous work. Reader is good at their job, their innate healthy (not so healthy) amount of paranoia serves to keep themselves and their charges safe. Theres been close calls, and severe injuries (one charge lost an limb, another's lungs will never recover, and of course the PTSD almost all have), but only three have died in their eight years (almost nine) as a handler. Some cases lasted a few months, others years. 
   It’s after a four year long case, a pair of soldiers are finally able to go home, they wear new scars and their bodys have new aches. The paperwork is all done, the soldiers have been checked over and given well deserved time off and counselling. Reader gets them settled, hands them off to the person who helps them readjust to society, offers (like every time) for them to call if they need. But like every time, they nod to be polite and don’t take Reader up, wanting to cut ties from the time spent isolated. 
   Reader gets a call then, asking them to be the handler for a new soldier, one who hasn’t done this type of work before. The isolation that rots away at soldiers' minds. So they agree, they’ve always been the best at handling the newbies. A file is sent over in an email, the soldiers information inside, along with a brief explanation of circumstances. A K.I.A case, these ones needed to be handled carefully. 
   Handler!Reader arrives at a military hospital, always hating being here, always being the bad guy here, and the place is in a bit of a flurry. They’re dressed in fatigues, blending in to the soldiers and medics around. It's easy to spot the team they’ll have to pry a comrade from, be the bringer of grief and mourning, and it kills a bit of them too. They wait off to the side, speaking with a nurse absently, actively avoiding looking at the team. They already look defeated, hollow and angry and, much to Readers juxtaposing relief and dread, hopeful. After a while, Reader makes their way past the team, escorted by a nurse through a set of doors separating dire patients from their concerned teams, friends, family. 
   They get to the Sargents room, Sargent MacTavish, he’s surrounded by doctors and nurses, all fluttering to keep him stable. It feels pervasive, it always does, to watch him be sewn together, hear the shriek beeps that monitor his heart, to watch him die. Except he’s not actually dying, not currently anyways, it's all a show, John MacTavish is currently unconscious in front of them, peacefully asleep as a play of chaos happens around him. Armed with a surgical mask and latex gloves, they slip into the chaos easily, grab their dead soldier's hand and squeeze it. A comfort more for them than him. Reader slips a note between his teeth and cheek, laminated to avoid damage before he can read it and uses a sharpie to mark the inside of his left bicep. A subtle way to let the morgue know not to autopsy.
   They leave the room the same time as the rest of the medics, departing in a flurry of movement, they pass the team again as the doctor in charge approaches. She delivers the news with practised sympathy, giving them a beat before leading them to where Sargent MacTavish lay dead. If they check, his heart won’t be beating, his skin won’t be as warm, he’ll look dead, he’ll feel dead too.
    (“Let them say goodbye.” “What?” “The only way I take this job, be a handler, is if they can say goodbye.” “It will put them in danger.” “Let the people they leave behind say goodbye.” “We can’t-” “The only way.” “Fine.”)
   He’s cremated, they typically are, and his ashes are spread somewhere Reader hasn't been. Handler! Reader takes Johnny there. They wait for him to get his bearings, patient as he processes what he’s been told. 
   (“‘M no’ dead.” “Literally? No, of course not. Officially? Time of death eighteen, thriteen.” “An’ ma team?” “Alive and, well not well, but physically they’re relatively unharmed.” “Relatively?” “Scrapes and bruises, Sargent MacTavish. Just scrapes and bruises.” “I wa’ shot.” “Yes.” “In the’ head?” “Yes.” “Bu’ ‘m alive.” “Sargent-” “Johnny.” “Johnny, give me your hand please.” “Wha’ for?” “...There it is.” “Wha’?” “Your pulse, steady and strong. Exceptional for a dead man.” “...” “...” “Ya do this alo’?” “Job of the Ferryman, Johnny. Job of the Ferryman.”)
   They watch from afar, safely hidden in tall grass looking through a sniper's scope. Reader purposefully ignores the shake in Johnny's shoulders, does not comment when his hand covers his mouth and a muffled, near silent, cry barely reaches their ears. 
   Handler! Reader has to pull him away, covering his mouth just in case he calls out to them, he doesn’t thankfully, he doesn’t fight as hard as others do, some part of him resigned to this new work.
   (“They won’t want to go, they’ll fight you.” “I know.” “No, you don’t. It’s not the kindness you think it is.” “It can be.” “It can also be a torture.” “I know.” “No,” “Yes, sir, yes I do know. They will fight and kick and scream and beg. But there will be some, if only just one, who will be thankful. And the ones who don’t make it, because that's something I have to accept, that there will be casualties, no matter how good they are, how good I am. They will remember that they got to say goodbye. At the end of the day it’s just scrapes and bruises.” “Your hearts’ too big for this.” “Nah, I’ve lost just enough of it.”)
   Handler!Reader gets him far enough away, safe for him to scream and grieve without an audience. That's where he hits them, a solid punch to the jaw and more yelling before he just collapses to his knees in the stony dirt. Little pebbles try to dig into the fabric and flesh over his knees, and Reader joins him, sits with their arms around their knees and looking out into the distance while Johnny composes himself. Their jaw aches and they only rub it slightly, curiously pressing on the forming bruise, a hum that sounds awfully like admiration taking Johnny's attention. It takes a half hour, forty-one minutes to be precise, for them to get moving. Johnny apologises on the way to the car.
   (“‘M, ach, ‘m sorry fer…” “Nothing to apologise for, Johnny.” “No, really, ‘m sorry. Ye dinnae deserve,” “Scrapes and bruises, Johnny, it's just scrapes and bruises.”)
a/n: yeeaah, this is gonna be a proper fic eventually
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imtrashraccoon · 3 days
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Not sure what to do with myself at the moment. Slight rant post below so no hard feelings if you skip it.
I have been trying to split my attention between three wips. These are The Nightmare of Apathy: Chapter 5, Swarmed by Sirens: Chapter 4, and a special Dreamswap oneshot for The Nightmare of Apathy that is currently called To Defy A Dream.
The issue is I've had a rough week with work. I work as a customer service person in a corporate hardware store and while I mostly like my job, there are parts that are extremely stressful for me. I am in the middle of transitioning to another department that will likely be less stressful but the process is something I haven't done before. I'm confident everything will work out but at the same time I'm scared I'll be wrong and this will be worse. I have to keep telling myself that this is incorrect.
I want to write but I can't seem to motivate myself at the moment. I got back into playing some of my favourite games, Project Zomboid and also Stardew Valley, but it's keeping me from writing lol. I also would like to draw some more, whether that be more affirmation doodles or finishing more siren art.
This is a small problem I suppose, but I guess I just want to have a chat with you guys. Any ideas are appreciated since I'm trying to find a way to motivate myself to finish one of the above wips. I'd love to talk about my wips or OC's or just answer any random questions. You don't have to though, I'll breakthrough this slump eventually.
I'm getting close to 200 followers and I'm still trying to think what I want to do for that.
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metalhoops · 11 months
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There are lots of modern aus with rockstar Eddie, and actor or professional sportsman Steve but I propose professional wrestler Steddie. I know this is niche, but hear me out. Wrestling is the perfect mix of sports (Steve) and drama/ camp (Eddie). 
You have a baby face Steve Harrington, who the crowd adores because he’s charismatic on the mic and not afraid to get a little bloody in his matches. Then you have heel Eddie who the crowd loves to hate. He’s got a Lost Boys-style vampire gimmick going on, heavy metal entrance music and has adopted the habit of walking in through the crowds. He’s amazing in tables matches and will take any opportunity to do a choke slam through the announce desk. 
The two don’t face each other in the ring often because Steve’s in a longtime feud with Billy Hargrove, whose a hell of a heel but downright dangerous in and out of the ring. He often refuses to sell for Steve and to make matters worse he’s a fan of not pulling his punches. 
Eddie and Steve don’t talk much in the locker rooms, they run in different circles and Eddie has the sneaking suspicion Steve is a stuck-up asshole (he’s not).  
They end up in a Royal Rumble match, where thirty-odd competitors get in a ring and fight to be the last one standing. Eddie’s sticking to the script. He keeps close to the guy he’s in a feud with until he catches Steve take a bump out of the corner of his eye. Billy’s on him and he’s not pulling his punches. Steve’s nose is gushing. The producers will be pissed because the T.V. network is getting squeamish about showing lots of blood. It’s not the 80s anymore. People don’t do that. 
Against his better judgment, Eddie decides to go off script. He takes Billy by surprise and manages to get him over the top rope. He wasn’t supposed to win anyway, so it wasn’t like they were going to dock his pay. He might get hazed in the locker room but that was a worry for another day. 
To Eddie’s surprise, Steve looks at him and shoots him a brilliant smile, his teeth filled with blood, his eyes shimmering with mischief. Someone tries to grapple with Eddie from behind but Steve intercepts, saving his ass. Eddie wasn’t meant to win the match either but he wanted as much airtime as he could get. He hates to admit it but he and Steve make a good team. Viewers seemed to agree. 
The next day Eddie is approached by his manager, telling him the higher-ups want him and Steve as a tag team. Which means one of two things. He and Steve were going to see a lot more of one another, and for once, Eddie was going to have to play the role of the good guy. It ends with them getting up way too close and personal in practice and pining hard over one another. 
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skylarbee · 2 months
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miles about the possibility of tlsp3 coming out in 2024: "fat chance of that" "it's a while off that, if it happens you know, it's... yeah, unfortunately, but one day maybe"
massive thanks to @mileskanex for sharing this, full interview linked🥰
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daddyplasmius · 8 months
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hand on my stupid heart flashbacks
this is a No One Knows AU & Full Hazmat AU where Danny ended up in the Ghost Zone & didn't go back into the human world initially because he thought he was dead. by the time he realized he is, in fact, at least half alive, he'd already been missing for at least 2 weeks. will probs never finish homsh sorry. i wrote this a couple years ago in a haze & just haven't been able to finish it because i can't replicate the style, which i find is what i love about this fic the most. it wouldn't be the same without it. posting the flashback introsーwhich are meant to be read between chapters/the actual plot, starting after chapter 1ーcuz fuck it. excuse typos & shit, i never properly edited it, as i forgot it existed immediately after i wrote it original description of homsh: Danny Fenton has officially been missing for over a year. Maddie & Jack Fenton refuse to give up on their son. Sick and tired of the police running them in circles, and the case getting colder by the day, the Fentons turn to their last resortーPhantom. 800~ words (full unfinished fic is 20k~)
-
When Danny woke up surrounded by thick, green fog, and couldn’t breathe without swallowing heavy air that was more like water than anything, he was sure he was dead. The portal glowed behind him, illuminating the pitch darkness around him in soft, yellow, warm light.
He almost went back.
Almost.
He was dead. His parents were ghost hunters. They had drilled into his head from the moment he was born that he could never, ever panic in death. That he would accept it. That he would not be scared. So he would be prepared to be brave in the face of death and would not become a ghost.
He panicked. He did not accept it. He was terrified. And so he woke up in the Ghost Zone.
-
Danny went back through the portal when he saw some ectopuses acting… strange. Like they had an idea in their heads. Like they had a plan.
Which was weird, with animal ghosts. He had only been in the Ghost Zoneーmom and dad called it that, he rememberedーfor a couple weeks. Or, he had already been there for two weeks. Or maybe time worked differently and he was there five minutes, or four years orー
The ectopuses went through the portal and, despite everything, Danny went after them.
While he was busy reeling at being home, the ectopuses immediately attacked dad. Danny was horrified. Jack was overwhelmed. Danny stepped in, in a moment fueled by sheer adrenaline and stupidity, snatching a Fenton Thermos™ off a shelf and releasing his shaky invisibility. The ectopuses didn’t stand a chance. And when they were safely in the Thermos, he slowly turned around to dad, ready for the confrontation. Ready for the “what happened to you?” and the “where have you been?” and the “we’ve missed you”.
Dad scrambled to shoot at him.
Danny fled.
His parents didn’t recognize him.
-
The Lunch Lady attacked when Danny was mourning Halloween.
He’d waited all year. He made a costume that summer. He wouldn’t get to go trick or treating with Sam and Tucker this year. Or any year. For the rest of his lifeーor existence. Whatever.
The Lunch Lady appeared in the school and demanded in straight fury, “Who changed the menu?”
Everyone pointed at Sam.
Danny hadn’t known just how powerful ghosts could be. His parents never told him the specifics. Just that they were dangerous.
This ghost grew and her aura hit him like a hurricane, almost physically pushing him back. It was so strong that the students in the Casper High cafeteria seemed to feel it too.
The Lunch Lady was a much harder opponent than the ectopuses. She levitated meat. She used it as a weapon, and seemed to bring it back to life. She created weird meat creatures that grew sharp teeth and claws out of bones. They were mindless, attacking everything that got too close to the ghost. Danny would have run away without hesitation, if Sam hadn’t been in the crossfire.
Danny fought the Lunch Lady. It was a long struggle, but he caught her in the thermos after over an hour. When he turned to Sam and Tuckerーboth of whom he had to save due to Tucker trying to jump into the fightーall three of them bloody and bruised, he cringed. But a part of him hoped. Desperately.
Surely they would know him on sight.
“Wh-what are you?” Sam gasped at him finally.
Danny flinched as if she had struck him. “J-just… your friendly neighbourhood phantom.”
-
Danny didn’t know what possessed him. Oh. Pun not intended.
He just barely caught the Fentons leaving in the GAV, dragging suitcases behind them. He couldn’t help himself. What on Earth were they doing?
They were going to Vlad Master’s mansion for their college reunion.
It was a whole thing. But something was off. Besides all the adults reminiscing about the 80’s.
Danny sensed ghosts immediately but he couldn’t see anything. Unfortunately for him, Vlad could also sense him. It was two days of Danny staying invisible, and Vladーthe halfa? Is that what Danny is?ーtrying to kill Jack. Somehow, Danny managed to fight off Vlad, not turn back, and without the Fentons getting hurt. His secret intact.
VladーPlasmius, also learned about Phantom. And Vlad hated him. The manーghostーwhatever, seemed to only care about one thingーpossession. Of money. Of things. Of people. He was more ghost than Danny had ever seen. Vlad’s obsession was overwhelming.
Danny couldn’t believe someone so much like himself could be so disturbing.
#danny phantom#danny phantom au#danny phantom fanfiction#you know that gif of the wailing emoji dissolving? :Why:?#yeah that's what i do every time i remember i never finished HOMSH while i still had the style in my brain#feel free to steal this idea. please steal this idea. please write it i wanna see this idea so bad but im already writing another 100k+ fic#if y'all want me to post the full fic i can but. it is not finished & most likely never will be. sorry again#i won't lie. the haze i was in was a depressed one. i was. not in a good place At All when i wrote HOMSH#like the only part i remember actually writing was the panic attack scene & that's just barely#i reread the whole fic in the middle of the night months later while listening to Implode Alright by Built by Snow on repeat#yeah i cried. this one is funny but mostly it's just. mourning. grief. the works. it's a vent fic & also a. kind of. wishful fic#like. don't you just wish death wasn't so permanent. don't you wish you could tell them everything you wish you could#don't you wish you could just see them again#i'm actually writing this into a bigger ventier series currently called Let Grief Do Its Work#cuz i rewatched LUCIDS again recently & remembered what HOMSH was originally about. why i was writing it#i'm not calling it HOMSH cuz. HOMSHie is my baby. it's its own thing & i don't wanna ruin the vibes#reluctantly admitting i call an unfinished fanfic i don't remember writing... HOMSHie baby... in my head#yeah i have a cute nickname for my fic. what of it#it's 5am & i think i'll throw up if i think any more about posting unfinished unedited pieces of a fic so i'm going for it. cowabunga#go into the world. get your 2 notes you beautiful animal#*passes out*
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inconmess · 1 year
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You know what this episode reminded me of? Orym's talk with the Tetrarch about power. How power in itself isn't good or evil. It simply is, waiting to be wielded by someone. How magic is something that is just there around people, waiting to be used, molded...
I feel like these words subtly influence Orym when he argues about the Gods and their followers. And this is a knowledge none of the others have so they can't understand completely where he's coming from. He has seen ancient runes and how they derive power. He has seen a civilization which hid during the calamity and stagnated, never contacting the outer world much. He has been given a different perspective on many things, the gods themselves even, which the others don't have.
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taniushka12 · 3 months
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there needs to be more Barry fics fr fr fr, I know the last time he appeared in game was 12 years ago but cmon, he is So important
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adozentothedawn · 4 months
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Six Sentence Someday
Tagged by @orime-stories thank you!
Despite what it looks like, I am in fact ocasionally still writing, I just tend to word vomit about my current obsession and then never finish it.^^° So yeah, my last game that I finished was Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest and it made me go insane, so have a part of my 1k monologue that I wrote for a potential time travel fix it. It is only 5 sentences because 6 would have been awkward, but if I ever get to it again you'll get a lot more.
"They ordered me to kill you but I couldn't do it. I would have ruined everything because I looked at you and remembered cherry blossoms and warm nights. I remembered off key lullabies and larger hands than mine on my back. I couldn't do it. And I think when you looked at me you knew that."
Gonna tag @adraveins and @stylishanachronism if you have anything you'd like to share.^^
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asjjohnson · 2 years
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I just had the thought of making a future fic updating schedule of 'once in a blue moon'. (Partly for the pun.) ...But then I looked up how often blue moons happen, and it's only about once every two years. So... that's probably not a good updating schedule. :(
(I have an existing fic with an update schedule of 'Friday 13ths and Halloween'. I like the semi-randomness. I would like to think of similar schedules. ...Though I'd missed the last two update dates.)
#...The 13ths fic is the only one that's currently active right now. And I haven't updated it in a year.#It was way too busy for me to write a chapter last 13th. It fell on a bad time of year.#and my computer's been messed up for the past few months so I hadn't felt like writing as Halloween neared.#Still don't know what's wrong with my computer but it seems to be less worrying now. Except I can't get Photoshop to work which is annoying#I could do 'once in a full moon' or 'once in a new moon' though they're a little too regular.#Hmm... looks like rainy days happen about twice a week when I try looking it up for my US state.#Updating on rainy days sounds interesting... for smaller-chaptered fics. Though I would need to write the chapters in advance.#When it's an event on a calendar it's easier to prepare for than the utter randomness of weather.#oh wait. my other fics aren't abandoned. DE is just the only one with a schedule right now. So... I don't know when to work on the others.#I might try updating 10/20 on full moons next year. ...If I can write its chapters quick enough. ...I might need a plan for a plot. hmm.#PD used to be updated very quickly but then I got stuck on a chapter near the end of the fic. I need to find time to reread it all.#Then there's the Gears universe... I wanted to try making the original oneshot into a comic. So I never wrapped up the oneshot.#And writing Another Gear would spoil the Gears oneshot/comic.#Dan fic 1 is... still not ready for publishing. I'd over-planned it. ...or under-planned it? I need to find time to really look it over.#...And the careful wording used in that fic is exhausting for me.#Hmm... there's a few oneshot holiday ideas I've had.#And the ficlets made specifically for this site (I think I have two unfinished ones—one about Vlad and one about Danny).#...For non-DP fics... They're on hold so far. I don't want to mix fandoms much or I'll get muddled characterization.#and my non-DP stuff doesn't get much attention here. Though I might should work on some Aladdin stuff for deviantArt. And BNHA for AO3.
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astrxealis · 9 months
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so. i've had this bloodborne diluc au idea since the game's release and i drafted a little bit in '22 and okay bloodborne diluc will always be special to me and i adore that others out there think the same but i'm not into genshin much at all anymore even if diluc & others are still cool BUT I JUST REALIZED ... bloodborne astarion au.
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thetaoofbetty · 11 months
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What's a dumb toxic trait of yours?
okay first i'm not gonna really rat myself out like that so you're gonna have to accept whatever i say it is alright?
but truly, there are hundreds of asks in my drafts i answered and forgot to post and/or it was already set to draft so i didn't post it without finishing on accident and now it's like purgatory in there.
so, uh, you know...sorry if i forgot to answer an ask. it wasn't personal, it's because i'm an idiot.
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elicathebunny · 5 months
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FINALLY CLOSING THE GAP BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR HIGHEST SELF IN 2024.
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You are going to STOP scrolling endlessly for self-help and advice content and you are going to STOP and apply the knowledge you have endlessly gained. Obtaining help and advice knowledge is useless if it goes through one ear and comes straight out the other. STOP becoming addicted to the idea of scrolling and scrolling for your problems yet you already have the resources to fix them. A fool is a person who cannot decide to take action despite having access to the information needed to do so.
BREAKING FREE FROM THE SCROLLING CYCLE
Learning and Applying is one thing, but Learning and Staying Stationary is literally brain rot. You're addicted to the idea of change and the end result, but you never take the steps towards discipline with a personal structure to get that result. You keep looking for quick fixes and easy hacks, but life is not a quick fix and no hack can elevate your life from 0% to 100% without visiting the rest of the numbers first.
TAKE A BREAK FROM SCROLLING
Take time away from your usual scrolling and learn to be on your own. Learn your own ways of self-care, learn what works for you and understand what you need, because nobody is the same. Following a millionaire's morning routine will not make you a millionaire. This routine has worked for someone to feel and be productive in the morning and was probably curated over the years to suit their current lifestyle. So, seeing other people's successes and comparing their working ways to your life is unrealistic if you are not in a position to implement them. Going straight from 0% (Being unproductive and procrastinating) to 100% (Being incredibly Productive and in tune with self) will not be sustainable for someone who has not built the discipline and the inner foundations required for it. STOP seeing information online and taking it without ALTERING anything to your personal situation.
STOP ASKING HOW TO AND JUST DO
"How to lose weight, How to become more social, How to do this and that"
Most of these things you ALREADY know the answer to. Everybody knows that to lose weight, you need to burn more than you consume. There is literally no other way, no magic and no secret hack, just that simple fact. I guarantee you know that to become more social you just have to be social. Learn to be comfortable in social situations which will require inner work, but it's not a difficult concept. Most of us know what we need to do, yet we still try to find quick fixes or another way that same message is presented to us differently. We act as if we are improving and developing on our "improvement" journey yet we are just finding coping ways to feel like we are moving, yet we are still in the exact same place as before. I know you know what to do, I know you have researched what you should do and ways you can do it. So why are you not doing it? Why are you still not where you want to be? If you are not where you want to be, then what you're currently doing needs to change. You cannot do the exact same thing you've been doing for years and expect a different outcome. You need to curate a routine suited to your needs that is realistic and achievable to adopt.
LEARNING TO MOVE ON YOUR OWN, STOP DEPENDING ON OTHERS TO FUEL YOUR SUCCESS JOURNEY LISTEN TO: NOBODY IS COMING TO SAVE YOU BY JULIENHIMSELF Make yourself your safe space, your foundation. When you see yourself in the mirror you should be able to tell yourself "I love you", you should be so sure in what you do that nobody else can contradict what you believe in yourself, this is the end goal of self-improvement. Many of us have put aside our goals because we "are not ready", "people may judge us" or "I need to be/achieve ___ to.." Now don't get me wrong, I'm on this journey with you. I write on this blog to teach my brain how to think in the higher mindset that I'm creating for myself. I too have thoughts like this which is why in 2024 we are going to break out of our old selves to make room for our new selves together. We have to lose ourselves to find ourselves. If you're mood and self-worth are controlled by other people's opinions, then you will never advance further with yourself and will remain stationary. You have to stop allowing other people to determine whether you are allowed to pursue your desires or if you shouldn't because of fear of rejection. Don't take life too seriously, we are only here for so much time. So what if people make fun of you? In a few years will you look back and be proud and fulfilled of your past or feel regret and disappointment? LISTEN TO: WHY YOU CARE SO MUCH BY JULIANHIMSELF + LISTEN TO: HOW TO DETACH BY VICKITA TRIVEDI
The only way to get to 0%-100% is by doing.
Embody your potential
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burntoutdaydreamer · 7 months
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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write
I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)
I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.
1) My first draft stays between me and God
I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.
I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.
Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?
Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.
Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.
If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.
2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen
I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.
Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.
If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.
3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word
My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.
I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.
If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.
Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.
4) Write Out of Order
This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.
Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.
I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?
When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.
Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.
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lxkeee · 3 months
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MY HEART IS BROKEN SO I NEED TO CRY First of all, I LOVE how you write, and I wanted to make a request about Lucifer breaking reader's heart, it doesn't matter how, I just want a broken heart 😔note: Sorry for the English translator, I don't write it but I understand it, TOTALLY CRAZY
TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
—Part One
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: angst (for now)
Warnings: none.
Notes: this one is short, 450 ish words but will serve as a foundation for the entire series lolol. Also, it's okayy:) your english is finee^^
PART TWO | NAVIGATION
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Life was good in heaven. Having been brought to existence by our creator, we were given a chance at life. The world is still currently in progress, slowly changing to adapt to newer life forms.
We angels were tasked to help this new world grow into such an amazing world. Speaking of worlds, I am very much grateful to be alive as I am given a chance to love. As one of the first few angels created, I was able to befriend Lucifer. God's most beautiful angel and whom I have the honor of calling mine.
Lucifer was such an awkward romantic lover, showing off his affections in his ways. Giving flowers, a pretty stone he managed to pass by while flying around, or perhaps by giving her kisses.
They've been married for some time now, being together for a few decades and recently got married. The wedding was amazing, friends and their creator attended the celebration. It was a very beautiful celebration, the wedding night was awkward yet romantic, two innocent angels experimenting, learning about the art of making love. It was wonderful. Despite being inexperienced, both had a great time being each other's firsts.
Life was truly good, until God announced that he made new creatures, mortals or humans as he calls them.
They looked like angels but without wings. They will be the very foundation of humankind.
Slowly and surely, Lucifer began to act weird. Ever since he visited the garden of Eden, he's been purposely avoiding [y/n]. Making up excuses to not spend time with her.
Rumors started to spread that Lucifer has begun to form ideas that threaten the order of heaven, [y/n] tries to stop him but Lucifer is stubborn. He believes that mankind needed this.
[Y/n] was heartbroken, why is the love of her life acting like this? Why doesn't he look at her with love and passion in his eyes like he usually does.
Why does it look like he doesn't love her anymore?
Deciding to spy on him, she followed him to the garden of Eden. There he saw her husband looking at the mortal woman, named Lilith with so much love and adoration in his eyes.
[Y/n] felt her heart and entire world shatter. Broken hearted, she quickly fled the garden. Returning back home and sobbed into her friend's slap.
She cried the whole night, Lucifer didn't even notice she wasn't home.
Not long after, Lucifer was cast out of heaven along with Lilith. [Y/n] was heartbroken beyond her understanding. She couldn't understand, her emotions all over the place. Her husband doomed humanity and was cast out of heaven with another woman.
[Y/n] didn't even get to tell him she was pregnant with his child.
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Happy Valentine's Day:)
Also, guess whose lap she was crying on? His name starts with A;)
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thef1diary · 4 months
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congrats on 1k!!! so so happy for you 🫶🏻🫶🏻
for the song request 🎧 could you write a lil fluff piece for lando? song: look after you by the fray <3
Be My Baby | L. Norris
Summary: You and Lando slowly but surely realize that you’re falling in love with each other.
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Warnings: none just fluff
pairing: lando x fem!reader
wc: 1.7k
Note: I listened to this song three times and wrote this while listening. I honestly don’t know if it relates to the song at all but I’m satisfied with the plot.
Lando was holding all the bags for you while you shopped, and it was getting hard to hold them all in one hand. But he wanted—no, needed to keep his other hand free so he would be able to hold yours as you walked side by side.
Then, you spotted the next store you wanted to walk into, dropping Lando’s hand and while he followed you, his hand felt a tad too empty.
If I don't say this now, I will surely break
Lately, Lando has been looking at you a little too long for it to be considered anything less than a relationship, but every time he looked away, his heart ached, needing to search for a glimpse of you again.
You were picking out a few clothes, holding it up in front of you as you decided whether or not you wanted to buy it. Turning to Lando to ask for his opinion, you let out a laugh, confusing him.
As I'm leaving the one I want to take
You stepped closer, poking his nose before breaking out into a smile, “oh Lan, do you want me to take any bags?”
You reached for them but he pulled away, shaking his head, “no, I’m good. Also, don’t get that dress.” He commented, nodding his head towards the dress you were currently holding.
“No? It wouldn’t look good on me?” You asked as you held it against your body but he still shook his head. “You would look good in anything, but it has buttons on the back instead of a zipper and I know how much you hate those.”
Forgive the urgency, but hurry up and wait
You flipped the dress and as he stated, there were buttons instead of a zipper like you thought. Your mouth parted slightly in surprise, at both the facts that Lando not only noticed the buttons before you did, but also knew that you preferred zippers. You had no idea that Lando remembered the small piece of information.
Without another word uttered, you placed the dress back on the rack and continued shopping. If you had said something, it would’ve been a little more than what is considered friendly.
My heart has started to separate
During the remainder of your shopping spree, Lando tried to keep up with your pace but he fell behind. However he didn’t mind because he could look at you as much as he wanted without getting caught.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, be my baby
The next time Lando called you, it was way too early in the morning for you. But the words he spoke as soon as you picked up worried you, “I think I might accidentally burn my apartment down if you don’t come and help me.”
You noted the time, 8 am, and groaned, “why would you burn your house this early? Can’t it wait?”
I'll look after you
“Are you coming or do you want to see my body burnt to a crisp?” Laughing, you told him that you would be there in ten minutes.
You reached in nine minutes, knocking incessantly in case Lando did actually fuck something up, but then again it wasn’t unusual for him to do so.
As soon as he opened the door, you walked right past him then once you assessed the damage—or well the lack of—you turned around to greet him, “what did you do?”
There now, steady love, so few come and don't go
“Good morning to you too,” he responded with a sheepish smile on his face. “Lando no middle name Norris, you did not ask me to come over for no reason.”
“I do have a reason, but don’t act like you wouldn’t come over for no reason either.” He walked closer to you, and you shrugged, “fair, I would.”
Will you won't you, be the one I always know?
“Come with me,” he stated, walking towards the kitchen and that’s where the mess was made. There were an unusual amount of empty pots and pans scattered everywhere.
You raised your eyebrow in amusement then looked at him. “Don’t laugh, I wanted spring rolls, but I don’t think I can fry them without either burning myself or the apartment.”
You laughed, something you were doing a lot more in his presence. When he looked at you with a stern glare, you slapped your hand over your mouth to contain your giggles.
When I'm losing my control, the city spins around
Once you stopped laughing, you had only one question, “why do you want to fry spring rolls this early?”
He shrugged, “I’m hungry,”
Shaking your head with a smile on your face, you began decluttering the space so you could work efficiently. Setting the frypan to heat up with oil, you looked at Lando again, noticing that he was already looking at you.
You're the only one who knows, you slow it down
“The things I do for you, Lan, no one else will put up with this you know?” He hummed, “what makes you think I want anyone else but you?”
He watched you cook, surprised at your little to no fear while handling hot oil but he chose not to comment in case it distracts you.
On the other hand, Lando was very much distracted by your choice of clothing. He noticed that you were wearing a black hoodie with his name and driver number on the back. He couldn’t look away from it for the remainder of the time your back was facing him. Then, he realized with a stupid smile on his face, that he liked it a lot.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, be my baby
Lando was walking you home and your hand was wrapped around his bicep as if it always belonged there. The restaurant was nearby so there no reason to drive, plus that meant you two were able to order some wine with your meal.
Although it wasn’t a date, it didn’t feel like anything less than one. The only difference was, both of you were in comfortable clothes, nothing too fancy, and it wasn’t openly stated that it was a date. But god, did you wish it was.
And I'll look after you
Lando walked on the outer edge of the sidewalk that was closer to the road. The sun had set a few hours ago, letting the moon illuminate the night sky. The time always passed by so quickly whenever you were with Lando.
His presence was so inviting that you never wanted to leave. When you finally admitted the thought instead of ignoring it, you realized how much you didn’t want Lando to just be your friend. You wanted so much more.
“What are you thinking about?” Lando spoke, interrupting the silence of the night but his voice was like music to your ears. “The wine,” you lied, knowing that the voices of your inner thoughts could not be said out loud. Not yet.
If ever there was a doubt
“That good?” He followed up, making you nod, “could compete with Daniel’s,” you responded, feeling his body move as he chuckled before you heard him.
“Don’t tell him that, he’s already got too big of a head.” Lando commented about his former teammate although there was no ill intent behind his words. You playfully slapped his arm with your free hand, only because you didn’t want to let go of his arm. “And what about you Mr. Norris, wouldn’t you say you’ve got a big ego as well?”
My love she leans into me
“The only reason I’ve got a big ego is because of you, sweetheart, always complimenting me.” Based on his tone, you knew he was just teasing but you couldn’t help but think more of the nickname he gave you. It wasn’t the first time he used it, but it definitely stirred feelings in your stomach the more he said it.
“Then my ego should be through the roof with the way you compliment me,” you noted, remembering all the times he said something that would leave you a blushing mess.
“And everything I said is true,” He remarked, and only because you didn’t want him to see your face which was undoubtedly red, you leaned your head onto his arm. Surely, that was the only reason, you told yourself. You totally didn’t want to just soak up all his personal space and make it yours.
This most assuredly counts
Reaching the doorstep to your home, both of you stopped walking but neither made a move to part away. In fact, while you were walking, Lando’s hand covered yours that was resting on his arm.
“I guess the night ends here,” Lando commented once you found the strength to move away from him. You looked towards the door then back at him, “it doesn’t have to, you can come in.”
Lando closed his eyes and thought for a moment before shaking his head, “I don’t think I should.”
She says most assuredly
Even though you weren’t holding his arm anymore, you stepped closer to see if he would move back, but he didn’t. “Why not?” You asked, even though you had an idea of what his answer could be.
“I don’t think I would be able to leave.” He looked at you with such intensity that if you weren’t slowly becoming accustomed to it, you would’ve melted into a puddle.
“Lando,” you whispered as there wasn’t a need to speak any louder with the little distance between you. His hand rested against your cheek, and he tilted his face an inch closer.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, be my baby
“This could change everything,” he commented, letting you find a reason to back out now. “I know,” you muttered, leaning closer until your lips were barely just brushing together.
“Kiss me,” you spoke against his lips and he didn’t waste a single moment before closing the distance entirely, claiming you as his and him as yours.
I'll look after you
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