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lvlyghost · 5 months

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In the Midst of War: IV

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Shadow!Reader

SUMMARY: Home is no longer where it used to be. Left with no one else you wonder who your friends and foes are.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TW: poorly written action lol. Fluff, hurt with so much comfort 🤭. Suggestive but no smut yet🌝. Mind the english!🐸 lmk if i missed any.

A/N: okay so this was supposed to be longer but decided to split the last part for chapter v 🐣 it'll be worth it i promise. next part is coming up sooner! as you know i do a lot of double shifts at work and December is the busiest season for me at work lol, just bear with me💖 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🩵

Masterlist✨

"𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅."

It's a cold night by the time you get to the safe house in a secluded street somewhere outside Kaindorf. Ghost grunts standing next to you, one of his arms draped over your shoulders to help him keep steady or at least as much as you can help with someone his size. The mission —your first mission since Las Almas— had been successful until it wasn't. You type the code and wait until the door opens with a mechanic sound revealing a not so bad interior. The whole place is silent when you walk in, mirroring the dead of the night. No sound of cars outside not even the sound of the wind to accompany you.

"How are you doing Ghost?" You turn your face to him, he's already staring down at you, noticing the struggle that comes with trying to hold part of his weight. This is not how things should've played out. Yet there he was. A nasty bullet wound on his left shoulder and another to his leg; the latter being just a graze but still hurt like hell.

"Never been better." He growls. And you know he's trying to act nonchalantly. That's just who he is. Who you've come to know. But his injury, especially the one on his shoulder is no joke. You had tried to stop the bleeding right before digging for the bullet. The amount of pain he must've been in was as bad as yours a few weeks ago "How did we miss them?" He mutters under his breath, no doubt recalling the events.

"I don't know. But we'll find out." You lead him to the nearest couch in the corner of the living room and turning on the lamp next to him. Ghost sits down struggling to find a position where he feels comfortable enough. "Alright..." swallowing down you look him in the eyes. "I need to check your wounds again and clean them up properly, okay?"Ghost closes his eyes for a second before nodding, he's too lightheaded to do anything else or maybe it was the morphine you gave him before, he doesn't know anymore.

Trotting back to the truck you unload the duffel bags where all your weapons and medical supplies lie. Closing the door shut and locking it before returning to where the Lieutenant rests. The lamp is turned off again so you can only make the outline of everything. You stop in your tracks dropping one of the bags and shuffle nervously.

"Umm, Ghost?" He hums in acknowledgment. "I can't see anything, do you mind turning...-"

"No." His response comes fast. "I'm not wearing the bloody mask."

So he had taken it off the moment you walked out.

"Then how am I supposed to look at your wounds?" Rolling your eyes you start approaching.

He growls something unintelligible and then adds:

"Fine just don't bloody look up or...-"

"Don't worry, I've no interest in looking at your face."

But the truth was that you wanted nothing more than to see him. The real him. You had dreamed about his face. What would he look like? The small parts of Ghost that you had taken a glimpse of were not enough to make you any less curious. For all you knew was that he most likely was blond. His eyelashes are so light that you wonder if his hair is the same shade. He has soft pink lips and a strong jaw. All of him was huge. Massive. You would never say it out loud but you felt drawn to him.

"Afraid you might like what you see?"

You snort, walking towards him and kneeling in front of the couch he's sitting on. His eyes follow every move you make, never looking up in the process. You slowly peel off the bandages you had previously wrapped around his right leg.

"Does it hurt?" You ask, taking the disinfectant out as you begin to clean up his wound again.

"Not that one." For a moment you almost forget that you're not supposed to look up, but you do. You were trying to take a quick glance to his shoulder, instead laying eyes on his face.

"Shit." You bow your head down as quickly, apologizing profusely to Ghost and expecting some sort of angry reaction from him but he remains in complete silent. "I- I didn't even really see anything, forgive me Sir."

"Fucking hell." He growled. "It doesn't matter. Just don't do it again."

It was true. You barely even saw the entirety of his face. Just pale skin, light brows and a crooked nose from being broken too many times.

"Okay." You swallow hard, hands slightly shaking when your skin makes contact with his much colder one.

Ghost shifts in his seat seemingly uncomfortable with something you can't put a finger on. "Think it's time to stitch that one up." You gesture to where his shoulder should be not daring to look again. Fumbling with the needle and thread waiting for his permission. There's no verbal answer to your previous statement, only a low hum that's enough for you to stand up and silently sit on the armrest next to him, his face is turned the other way hiding himself from you. "You know you can just put it back on?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Yeah, right." brows lifting in surprise. "Want me to get you something for the pain?"

"Get it done, kid."

Breathing deeply you oblige.

Ghost's whole body tenses with the first sting of the needle piercing through his skin. Your eyes are fixated on your work but every now and then they travel to the back of his head. Blond hair. So you were right; and you can't fight back the grin that appears on your lips. You're marveled by something so simple as that; if only he'd let you come closer...

"I think it's my turn to cook something for you. All this time you've taken care of me."

"You don't have to. I was doing what I was told."

Blinking you tap his shoulder lightly to get his attention. Ghost merely turns so a small part of his side face shows, still not enough for you to see.

"I want to." Even if he says it was his job. Even if it didn't mean anything to him. All you needed was a way to thank him for what he had done. That was who you were. How you were taught to be. Grateful amongst adversity. "I'm a good cook I promise."

One last stitch. One more. And then you're done, and his body relaxes as you come to stand gathering the medical supplies while looking down the floor. Before you leave he reaches out, grabbing your wrist in a gentle yet firm grip. Eyes going wide.

"You can look now." His voice is low and when you turn he's put the balaclava back on. Big brown eyes staring with intensity. "Thanks for what you did back there."

You stutter when you speak, something about the way he holds you makes you forget how to form words.

"I had to. It was my job, although I failed..."

"You didn't fail." He growls. You motion at his wounds, embarrassed because you knew you could do better than that. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Your mouth hangs open, lips quivering when his words reach your ears. All this time you've tried to look calm. To appear strong when in reality everything has gone from bad to worse; it began with the loss of your former team and the people you held close and dear. People you thought would be there for you for eternity. And then all of the sudden there were none. Alone in a dirty side road to die, you guess that in the end there were no good people. Just soldiers following orders. But standing in front of a man who was always portrayed as the devil himself maybe... just maybe not all hope was lost. And not all people were bad. Much to your dismay, Ghost stands from his place on the old couch, rising in all his massive glory as he takes one firm step closer to you. Your hands threaten to let everything fall onto the floor, breath getting stuck in your throat. You're lucky. So, so goddamn lucky that he's your ally. Someone who, in these past weeks has become something you don't dare to name.

"At ease soldier." He commands in a hushed voice. And he's close. Too damn close you feel the heat radiate off of him. It makes your skin burn and hands sweat. "I'm just looking at you."

Ghost is terrifying when you look at him in full gear. The white skull mask a legend itself among all the military forces in the world. Hushed stories told during late nights back on base. You had never met him nor had the chance to work with him. All you knew was that. Never in a million years would you have thought you'd have to be his eyes from the distance; to be the one who guards him. Your finger caresses the trigger of your sniper rifle, ready to shoot at anyone who you deemed dangerous.

"Should've brought my own mattress." You huff, shifting your body to find a more comfortable position.

"You've been out for a few weeks. It can't be that bad." His deep voice talks right into your ear.

"My stomach was literally reattached, Lt."

A deep chuckle that doesn't last long enough can be heard.

"If you can't do it let me know. I can take you back to your room, yeah?"

"I'm having a hard time deciding if that's a good or bad thing, sir."

"The latter, Vesper."

Laughing you turn your head, maybe it's the paranoia of being back but you feel someone constantly watching you from behind.

"How's that a bad thing? Thought you liked me in my room."

You can practically hear him suck in a breath and then a muttered curse.

"Not when you're injured and nearly comatose." He grunts after a few seconds of silence.

Oh.

"Well then's a good thing i'm here."

The mission was rather simple. Break in, gather some intel and get out. Nothing was supposed to go sideways but it did. It had started with the room where the intel was supposed to be.

"Vesper." You hear Ghost calling you. "There's civilians in here." His voice drops an octave.

"What?" A shiver runs down your spine. "They are not supposed to be there." All you hear is the sound of muffled voices. Cries for help. Ghost swearing under his breath. And then shots are fired.

Your heart races when the first couple of hostiles appear through your scope. Not being one to hesitate you aim to their heads and fire.

"Vesper sitrep." Ghost barks, his end way more chaotic than yours.

"Hostiles coming in groups. You need to get out of there asap."

"Bloody hell." It's all he says before another round of shots is fired. "Meet me at the evac point."

"I'm not leaving you behind!"

Shifting your scope to look through one of the windows you watch as a dark figure runs downstairs. Ghost is trying to make his way to the back exit when another group reaches the abandoned building. You effectively take out the first three men that jump out of the black van. Then another ominous creak of crunching leaves in the god forsaken roof of the house across, rolling on your back your turn at the exact moment a bullet is fired your way, and hitting the the ground where you previously laid prone.

Wide-eyed your face pales as recognition hits your features.

You know him. And he knows you too.

His big hand lifts slowly as if asking permission to touch you to which you give a small nod. Ghost is looking at a spot on your left cheek his thumb softly caressing the soft skin of your face. You don't know why but you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"How'd you get this?" An unknown look is all you give him. "There's a scratch, right 'ere." Careful not to hurt you or cause you any pain he keeps his motion.

"Must've been when we ran through the woods." You mumble. "I'm sure I didn't let any of them get me."

"Atta girl." A small pause settles when all you hear is the sound of the night outside. Crickets and the now casual passing of cars far in the distance, returning from work, oblivious to the dangers of the world. Some things they'd never heard of before, things they wouldn't witness in their lifetime. "Better me than you."

You melt at his words. Heart nearly beating out of your chest. It's like your body acts out of pure impulse. Hands —your hands— grab the sides of his neck pulling him down just enough that his forehead touches yours, and you rest there with ragged breathing fanning over his face. Closing your eyes you weigh in your options. Break the moment and tell him about the encounter with the man back in the roof, or let yourself feel him? Because truth be told this could only mean one thing. Ghost wanted to be near you in ways that were not professional at all. And hell you wanted that too from the moment you saw him. You just didn't know it.

If the things you heard were true he didn't let just anyone close to him. What was so special about you? You wanted to ask, but you feared that even if you moved, this thing would be broken and the moment would slip through your fingers.

In a quick movement you go from standing in the middle of the living room to sitting on the nearest table, you shriek as Ghost slots himself between your legs. Seemingly unfazed by what he just did you then see the corner of his eyes crinkle. He's smiling under the mask.

"You're hurt. You'll reopen the wound and..."

"I don't care, sweetheart. I've got you where I want you." A sheepish smile forms on your lips and your cheeks grow hot. "One word. Say it and I will stop."

You nod right before he lifted his mask and his lips crash down on you.

Part 5

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 2 months

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Badge Bunny Part IV

Masterlist here!

Summary: When it all becomes too much, you're ready to leave Lehigh behind but Gator has other plans in mind.

18+ Only! MDNI!

Warnings: Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Minimal use of Y/N. ANGST!!! Gun use mentioned for protection. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Tad bit of size kink. Creampie.

Word Count: 6.4K

You watched him leave, with tears clouding your vision as they began to roll hot down your cheeks. It felt like a stone sat deep within the pit of your stomach.

It was for the best. At least, that's what you keep telling yourself, while your head and heart are at odds with each other.

He was always stuck in limbo. Never fully present with you even when he was home. At Roy's beck and call any and all hours of the day. It made your heart ache knowing he would never be truly yours.

It surprised you when he hadn't fought back, accepting the finality of it without a single protest.

He'd left that morning and seemingly hadn't looked back.

After spending most of the day in bed in and out of consciousness, with your body thoroughly spent of its tears you trudged your way into the kitchen. Your eyes scanning the living room right away, as if they were drawn there.

He'd cleaned up while you had been sleeping that morning, even going as far as cutting out the carpeting that held those wine-colored stains. A fresh wave began to sting and build at your lash line at the thought of him trying to clear any reminders, as if it would somehow erase what happened all together.

It would be the first night of many that the loneliness was almost unbearable. The house was far too quiet.

Every little sound puts you on edge. He'd left his spare gun, so you moved it to your bedside. It had even crossed your mind to go to the pound and pick up a big dog for security mostly, but you'd also have someone in the house.

Nights were when the walls started to press in around you. Anxiety at its highest. Reliving all those moments over and over again. It was enough to drive someone mad.

You didn't want to go back to work, Henry understood and told you to take all the time you needed. Your job would still be there when you were ready. You also knew you couldn't stay unemployed for long.

Maggie came over a couple of times to check on you. Her hard exterior melted at the first sight of your swollen eyes and bruises barely beginning to heal, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You were waiting for that “I told you so” that never came. She didn't mention Gator, which was a first, always having something to say about him or his father. You were grateful for the mindless chatter and town gossip instead.

She'd brought you enough groceries that you didn't need to leave the house for a few days, but you were growing stir crazy.

When you'd finally made the decision to get out it was a breath of fresh air. The house was beginning to feel stuffy and small as you got that caged in feeling thrumming through your veins.

The next day you went back to work, opting for the morning shifts. It was shit pay, but it was better than coming in at night. Still worrying that someone could be lurking in the dark. Ready to finish what they'd started.

Gator finally came and got the majority of his things making sure to avoid you, doing it while you were away. You weren't sure how he knew you wouldn't be home. He hadn't reached out, but you knew he had ways of finding everything out in this town.

Your heart ached when you saw the now bare side of his closet. Drawers emptied of their contents. The finality of it hitting you with a magnitude you weren't expecting. You willed yourself not to start crying again.

That very moment you decided you were leaving Lehigh.

It's been two weeks since you last saw Gator Tillman.

You'd finally began to work nights, keeping that gun in your purse for added peace of mind. Pulling doubles as much as possible, saving every penny you can scrounge up. It still doesn't seem to be adding up as quickly as you would like.

It's been a slow morning, when you notice Andy walking through the door, not missing the way he tried to avoid looking directly at you when he sits himself at his usual booth.

You sighed to yourself as you headed over, grabbing him a drink before doing so.

“Hey Andy,” you tried to sound chipper, but you weren't even fooling yourself. Sitting his drink and a menu down in front of him.

“Hey Y/N. How ya’ been?” He asked, with a kind smile.

“Uh, I guess about as good as one could… after… all that.” Waving dismissively.

“I'm sorry. That was a dumb question. I…”

“No, Andy. It's ok.” Placing your hand to his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

No one ever asked about it. You wished someone would say something to get it out of the way, but they never did. Instead, looking at you like a fragile piece of glass.

“You wanna look over the menu or you know what you want?”

He ordered his usual. You knew he wouldn't have come here by himself. He never came in here before you and Gator got together. Gator dragging him here at least once a week while on shift just to see you for lunch.

You made more menial small talk, checking on him here and there.

Before he left you made sure to catch him.

“You can tell Gator I'm fine. And if he's so worried about me he can come talk to me himself.”

He didn't try to deny it, simply nodding his head smirking as he went.

“See ya later, Y/N. Stay safe.”

Being completely honest with yourself, you hadn't slept well since that night. A glass of wine quickly turned into a bottle before bed to fall asleep. It didn't help the bags under your eyes, but it took your mind off the pain for a little while. Relaxing you enough to coax your mind into a few hours of rest.

You'd been stocking up at the grocery store each time you went and today would be no different. You made the trek, leaving work at a normal time.

Henry could see your exhaustion and told you to take the night off. Well, more like ordering you to.

You hadn't realized when you left the house, you'd grabbed one of Gator's old hoodies instead of your own, but it would have to do for a quick trip.

Opting for a basket instead of a cart would make it a quick in and out. You browsed the frozen food section picking out a couple of things then heading straight for the wine aisle grabbing a couple of bottles of rosé.

You turned the corner, bumping full force into someone.

“Fuck,” you hissed out steading yourself against a broad chest, looking straight up into hazel eyes that you knew all too well.

“Gator, what the fuck?” He had a hold on your basket, making sure it hadn't fallen from your grasp.

“Sorry Bun… Y/N.” He blurted out, while his eyes roamed over you. He noticed his hoodie immediately, making a small smile creep up on him that was quickly wiped away by your disheveled appearance.

Bags are starting to form under your eyes. The bruise on your cheek is a distant memory now. The cut above your lip is nearly healed but will leave a scar. A small, taunting reminder that this is all his fault.

He'd had a couple of buddies watch you from time to time. His way of trying to keep you safe. Andy had relayed your message earlier today. You were smart he knew you'd see right through him when he stopped by.

He finally realizes the death grip he still had on your basket when you looked up at him with your signature, “what the fuck are you doing?” expression.

He let go and took a step back. Giving you the out he knows you'll take.

“I'm actually glad I ran into you.” You spoke, not meeting his direct gaze, looking back down to the basket not containing much of anything but the alcohol you planned to down for the evening.

“You are?” He perked up at that, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Uh, yeah.” Willing yourself to meet his eyes. “You need to tell your goons to back off. I'm fine. I don't mind Andy so much, but I don't need whatever you're trying to do.”

You weren't fine. You both knew it.

He scoffs. “I… what're you talking about?”

“Come on Tillman.” Titling your head up at him, leveling him with a sharp stare. “That savior complex you've got for me. Plus, you're a terrible liar. It's written all over your face.”

He snapped his mouth shut, gaze falling away from you, and finally noticing the wine. He didn't say anything, it would only make it worse, but you didn't drink. Not like that. And from what he's heard from one of his friends you came by the store daily for it.

“I just worry about you.” He said it so low; you almost missed it.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” He asked, but when you stayed silent it told him all he needed to know.

“I've got to go. Just… just back off. Please.” You quickly shuffled toward the front, trying not to watch the crestfallen look on his face. You glanced back once you made it to the register, but he was already gone.

As the days went on, you realize that even the doubles weren't getting you enough to move from Lehigh as quickly as you wanted.

An idea struck a couple of days prior, something Maggie had mentioned when you first got into town. The prospect became more and more alluring with each passing day.

You were stuck and it seemed like the most logical thing to do.

Henry was sad to see you go but he understood. Everyone understood. He was surprised you'd stayed around this long with everything that went down.

“I'm sorry, Henry. I just need to get out of here. It pays the bills but not enough to get me out of town.” Laying it all out on the line, giving him your notice.

“Hey kid, don't be sorry. It's ok.” He hugged you. You'd come to see Henry as a fatherly figure. He often rolled his eyes at your antics but always had a listening ear when you needed it.

“Just take care of yourself.” He added.

“Of course! I've made it this far on my own.” You grinned, leaving behind your apron.

You were headed across town to see a man about a different kind of job.

Gator stomped through the door of the Lucky Lizard a couple of days later, a man on a mission.

Henry spotted him as soon as he came barreling in, sighing to himself.

“Where is she?” Asking in a huff.

“Gator, nice to see you too.”

“Don't fuck with me right now. I know she quit her job two days ago. Where is she?” He fixed him with a pointed glare.

“Why don't you ask her yourself?” He turned away from him, grabbing a fresh beer for someone at the end of the bar.

“Because she doesn't want to talk to me. But I need to know she's safe. At least give me that. I know she talks to you.”

“Uh… that's a kicker now. Safe? I'm not so sure but I know she doesn't need you causing an uproar.” He was hesitant, mulling it over. Watching the younger man's expression turn a little more rigid. He was already mad; this would probably send him over the edge.

“Gator, now don't be a dumbass about this, but I know she went for a chat with Jeremy Nash.”

He felt like someone poured ice water over him. Anything but that.

“Fuck.” He hissed. Henry called after him, but it was too late. He was already out the door.

You weren't new to this kind of job, moonlighting as a cocktail waitress a few years ago, but you'd never taken the plunge to actually be an entertainer.

You'd gotten hired on the spot by Jeremy to start the weekend shift, luckily giving you a couple of days to prepare.

You arrived early. He showed you the grand tour giving you a locker and a vanity to get ready at.

The other girls looked at you with disdain and jealousy as soon as you walked in. Seeing you as nothing more than fresh meat and competition to take their money.

They chatted amongst themselves, not so much as a word toward you as they quickly got dressed and left you alone in the dressing room.

“Nice welcome,” muttering to yourself as you continued getting things out of your bag to get ready.

As you were finishing your eye liner, Jeremy came bustling into the room.

“Looking good! Ready to make some dough? You're up next.” He stated enthusiastically, eyes trailing your exposed skin, as if he didn't see tits and ass every day. He was a little sleazy but nice enough.

You were about to go on stage at The Tender Trap.

The only strip joint within 100 miles and it just so happened to be close to Lehigh.

“Uh, sure.” You put on your best fake smile and stood.

“Wow, you look great. What's the stage name again?”

“Ugh, Bunny.” Holding up those bunny ears you'd had stored away in the closet back at home for emphasis. Going with all black, fishnets with thigh high boots, you'd only have white ears. Your body suit covering you until it would be time to remove it. Nothing underneath, leaving those fishnets, making you feel a little less exposed.

He grinned, nodding his head “it fits.”

It felt a little wrong to use the name. But you had the outfit right down to the ears and tail, might as well use it to your advantage. Guys go crazy for that stupid Playboy bunny persona.

He led you to the backstage, curtains drawn as another girl was finishing up.

The bass of the music thumping through you. Doing absolutely nothing to quell the jitters you had.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a special newcomer. Everyone give it up for Bunny!” The DJ came over the loudspeaker as Wicked Games by the Weeknd started to play. It was your cue.

Your hand slightly trembled as you pulled the curtain back. Stepping out into the small spotlight, temporarily blurring your vision.

You smiled at a couple of men to your right as you took a few more steps to the center, hips swaying with the song.

There were some whistles and shouts that spurred your confidence. You continued to look around the stage as you slowly walked forward.

Your smile dropped when you locked eyes with a familiar figure. He stuck out like a sore thumb at the end of the stage, as he loomed over the other men.

His arms were crossed over his chest, staring you down, feeling the heat of his gaze from across the room. You froze for a moment before regaining your composure.

He tilted his head as if daring you to continue, eyes dark and zeroed in on you.

You tilted your head toward him and placed your hand around the pole to go ahead with your routine. His presence be damned.

It was then he jumped the edge of the tip rail, much to the grumbles and protests of the other men surrounding you, shedding his jacket as he stalked over.

“What the fuck, Gator?” You yelled, as he held the jacket up around you, pushing you back toward the curtain.

“I don't fuckin' think so Bunny. Let's go.”

With your heels you were nearly nose to nose with him, standing firm, you just stared him down.

“No.” You spat.

“Hey!” Both of your heads shot toward a very angry Jeremy Nash storming your way.

“Get the fuck off my stage! You entitled fuckin’ prick. Your father doesn't own this place Tillman.”

Gator rolled his eyes then narrowed his gaze back to you.

“Gator, just get the fuck down!” You yelled, pushing his chest but he hardly budged.

Jeremy reached the edge of the stage, pushing himself up and over, grabbing Gator’s arm momentarily knocking him off balance.

It all happened so fast. Once Jeremy grabbed him, he'd turned quickly, his fist meeting the other man's nose with an audible crunch that could be heard above the music.

He grabbed his face with a groan and started backing away immediately, yelling for you both to get the fuck out as blood poured down his mouth.

Without a second thought Gator turned back toward you, bending down, throwing an arm around your waist, and in one fluid motion hoisted you up over his shoulder.

“Gator Tillman! Put the me the fuck down right now!” He ignored your protests, as you kicked your feet and pawed at his back.

“Quit it, Bunny. No girl of mine is working at a place like this.” He placed you back on the ground once you'd reached the dressing room.

The other girls gawked and cursed at the both of you before practically running over each other to get out the door.

When he rose up, you reared back and smacked him across the cheek.

"In case you forgot, I'm not your fucking girl." You hissed.

He wasn't shocked but he slowly released a breath through his nose before speaking.

“Get your shit. You can scream, yell and slap me all you want in the fuckin' truck but your comin’ with me.”

There was no point in arguing, you knew as much but at least you could let him know how you felt about it.

You gathered your belongings, tossing his jacket back at his chest and pulling a hoodie over yourself. Moving to the back door without saying a word, you let yourself out into the cool night.

You spotted his truck and got in, slamming the door making him wince.

He hauled himself into the driver's seat and started it, easing out of the parking space.

“You fucking humiliated me in there.”

“You’ll live.” He sighed. “As if you weren't about to humiliate yourself.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? At least it's honest work, unlike what you and your goddamn daddy get up to. And don't play dumb Tillman, I don't know everything, but I know enough.”

You crossed your arms and stared out the window as he kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. You expected him to snap back but he didn't say anything which only infuriated you further.

He wasn't the strong silent type; you can tell he was holding back. He'd throw his own tantrums, ending with you two clashing because you were so much alike.

“Goddamnit Gator you can't do this to me. We aren't together. You can't barge back into my life when you think I need saving. It doesn't fucking work like that!”

He slammed on the brakes, making you jolt forward and quickly pulled off to the side of the road throwing it in park.

“I can and I will! Especially when you end up in some shit hole like that! What the fuck were you thinking?” Sounding more disappointed than angry.

"I was thinking I can get enough money to finally leave this fucking hell on earth you call home behind because I don't want to be here anymore! That's what I was thinking. Anywhere is better than here. I won't have to see you, or your fucking bat shit crazy dad anymore.”

"Bunny," he tries.

"No, stop Gator. I'm not… you don't get to call me that anymore. Just drive me home. I'm done.”

He stares at your profile for a moment before releasing a heavy sigh, pulling back out into the highway. Neither of you bother speaking for a while until his calm voice cuts through the silence.

“You should leave, you know. Get out of Lehigh, hell out of the state. Get as far away from here while you still can.”

You were stunned. You'd expected him to beg and plead for you to stay, not this. Something was going on with him. You watched him concentrating on driving, but he was chewing his bottom lip.

“Is… is that what you want?” He didn't immediately answer, instead he pulled back off the road to give you his full attention, turning to face you in his seat.

“Of course that's not what I want, but if it means you'll be safe from… from all of this shit, then yes. Leave for your own good.” His eyes never left yours. You could see he was fighting his own emotions. “I love you, Bunny. I'll always fuckin’ love you until the day I die. It's just not safe.”

You could tell something was there. He wanted to tell you more.

“You… you could just come with me?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes, tears forming at your lash line threatening to spill. “Please? We could leave tonight. Somewhere no one knows us. Somewhere no one would find us.”

“Baby, I… I can't. I…” he reached out to touch you, but you quickly flinched out of his reach.

“No. This is exactly why we broke up. What the fuck was I thinking?” You laughed out, salty tears now flowing freely dripping from your chin.

He'd had enough of seeing you cry. He didn't know what else to do.

“Bunny, look at me.” His voice was stern, pulling you from your current spiraling thoughts, as he placed his hands on your cheeks. The pads of his thumbs wiping away your tears as you nuzzled into the tender touch.

“Fuck it,” he hissed. Quickly surging forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You pulled back, your hand meeting his cheek harshly. Slapping him before you realized what you'd done.

He nodded, pulling his lip between his teeth before releasing a harsh breath.

“I'm sorry… I…” you began, grabbing his collar, pulling him back and pressing your lips back to his, pushing him further back into his seat, swinging your leg around so you could straddle him.

It was messy, full of want. Tongue and teeth. Pushing and pulling at one another.

“It's okay baby, just… just take it out on me.” He mumbled, between kisses.

His hands found your hips, fingertips catching the holes of your fishnets. His touch setting you on fire as he pushed you down onto the tent already forming in his pants. Guiding you to grind against him, as you both moaned out.

“Fuck, I missed you.” You rasp out, as his lips begin trailing down your jaw, finding that juncture right below your ear, sucking a little harshly before soothing it with his tongue.

His hands trail up, pushing the hoodie up, until your barely clothed chest is on display. Squeezing your breasts in his large hands had his hips bucking up into yours. Already so eager to be inside of you.

“Fuck Bunny.” He leans back to take another look at you, slowly appraising your outfit. “I think ya’ need a reminder of who you belong to. Ya’ can't be showin’ everyone this. It's f’me. All f’me.”

“We weren't together.” Rolling your eyes, knowing it would get a rise out of him.

“Don't care.” He pulls the cups of your body suit down haphazardly, as you hear the fabric tear beneath his rough grip. “You're mine.”

“Gator!” Protesting that quickly turns into a moan, as soon as his plush lips meet your chest, sucking harshly at your nipple while he pinches and rolls the other between his finger and thumb.

He pulls off with a pop, smug grin plastered across his face.

“What was that sweet thing?”

“Oh, fuck you,” you hiss, with no real malice behind your words.

“Don't worry baby. We’ll get to that.”

You roll your eyes again, reaching a hand down to palm his very now prominent erection, eliciting a small moan cutting through his cocky demeanor.

“What's wrong baby?” Looking at him with your best doe eyed expression. “You miss me that bad?”

“You know I fuckin’ did.” He grits out, closing his eyes a moment before his hand wraps around the back of your neck pulling you down into another heated kiss.

Your hands quickly get to work as you ease back, reaching for and unlatching his belt buckle, undoing his pants and reaching in, finding him hot and heavy as you pull him free from his boxers.

Your thumb collects the precum from his slit, dragging it back down the length of his velvety shaft, as you swallow his stuttered moan.

You pull back slightly, his bottom lip between your plush ones, sucking before letting it pop back into place. You take the opportunity to catch him off guard, letting a string of saliva slip between your lips landing on the head of his cock.

“Fuck, Bunny.” He rasps out, hips pushing his dick further into your hand, searching for more friction.

He pulls at the hem of your hoodie, pulling it up and discarding it quickly onto the floor, as your hand comes back to languidly stroke him.

“Baby, please. If you keep that up, I'm gonna cum. I need you.” He didn't let you answer before his fingers slid the side of your body suit over. Bare save for your tights.

His fingertip grazes your clit as you throw your head back. He growled when the fabric caught, restricting his movements and further access.

You knew what he was thinking when he smirked up at you but before you could say anything to stop him, he pulled at the fabric, ripping it at the seam.

“Gator! What the fuck!” You hissed, before his fingers found your slit, sliding down catching at your entrance.

“I'll buy you a new pair. Promise.” You nodded, closing your eyes at the feeling, you ceased your ministrations gripping onto his shoulders for purchase. He circled your entrance, gathering slick before sliding back to your puffy clit. Relief flooded your veins as he began rubbing circles against you.

“More. I need more.” You moaned out, your cunt aching to be filled.

“Ride my fuckin’ cock then. S’all yours baby.” He said, gripping himself at the base and slapping it back against your bare pussy.

You raised up, allowing him to line himself up with your weeping entrance. As soon as his head breaches slightly, you grip his cheeks pulling his face up.

Maintaining eye contact as you slowly sank down around him. You relished in the stretch and slight sting, as he splits you open.

Pleasure begins taking over as your eyes start to roll back, releasing the grip on his face, bracing yourself against his chest. Your jaw went slack, as another wanton moan fell from your lips.

You slide down easily, inch by inch, feeling every vein and ridge as he fills you from beneath.

Your ass finally came to rest on his thighs, with his cock filling you to the brim.

He takes your palm and pushes it against your lower stomach.

“You feel me in there baby? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am?” You feel the bulge from where his cock is nestled within you, making your pussy flutter around him. “No one else could fuck ya’ that deep. Huh?”

“No… mmm… fuck, baby. God, I've missed you.” You breathed out, as you started to bounce, giving you both much needed relief.

“Yeah Bunny. That's it. Shit you feel so fuckin’ good. Missed this pussy. Missed you.” His eyes watch your tits bounce with the movement, as his hands grip your waist, helping raise your hips when you slow down just a bit.

Your bouncing begins to slow to a rhythmic grind, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit with each pass as heat starts to pool in your lower belly.

“Keep going baby, I know your fuckin' close. I'm gonna… fuck… gonna fill my fuckin' pussy up.” He grabs your cheeks roughly, as your eyes pop open to look at him.

“Tell me baby. Whose pussy is this? Huh? Who do you belong to?” He growled out, holding you still as he begins to piston his hips, fucking up into you.

“You… it's yours… Gator! Fuck!” You scream out.

“Yeah? All mine baby…mmm…play… play with your clit f’me. I want you to cum with me Bunny.”

He watches intently as you hand trails lower, finding your aching clit as he continues to fuck you from below.

“That's it baby. Feels good, huh?” Coming out a little mocking.

“Ugh… yes… feels so fuckin' good. I'm gonna cum all over your cock.” Your fingertip glides over your nub, feeling that electricity licking up your spine.

“Yeah baby? Gonna cum f’me?” Watching his length move in and out of you creating a creamy ring at the base, a mixture of both his and your arousal nearly sending him over the edge.

“Yesssss baby. Fuck…” His cock continues to nudge that sweet spot within you with every upward thrust.

You grasp his shoulders as your orgasm begins to wash over you, dragging you under with a blinding force.

“Baby, I'm cumming… I'm… ahhh…” It was all consuming, your pussy clenches around him like a vice, as those sparks began to flicker behind your eyelids. Your legs trembled as you writhed atop him.

“That's it, sweet thing. My tight, little…mmm… pussy is grippin’ me so fuckin' good.” He continues to push into you from below, as you try to come back to yourself.

“Cum… cum in me baby.” Your voice comes out shaky, as his cock twitches at your words.

“That what you want? Huh? I'm gonna fill this pussy full.” He grips your hips with a bruising force, pushing you down onto him, somehow impossibly deeper as he begins to cum.

You wrap your arms around his neck, as your hips grind down, working him through his own release. Your pussy milking him of every last drop. His face was turned upward, jaw going slack at the feeling as he breathes out a heavy moan. You loved the fact that only you ever got to see him like this.

“Fuck, Bunny. Baby… stop… I…” His fingers tighten on your hips, halting your movements.

You both still, foreheads resting together, chests heaving trying to catch your breath.

You looked into those lovesick eyes that you've missed so much. Unsure of what to say. Unsure of where this left the two of you.

You slowly lifted yourself from his lap, as he slid from you, you quickly moved off and tried to cover yourself. Your tights were in shambles and your top was ripped. You pulled the hoodie from the floor and pulled it back over you.

He sighs, watching you as he stuffs himself back into his pants.

“No matter what I fucking do I can't stop. I still fucking love you, Gator.” You were transfixed on the window, gaze on nothing in particular. He lets those words wash over him. He never wanted it to go this way.

“I’m sorry. For everything. For not being there. For not protecting you. I should have goddamn been there instead of working that night.” You look over at him with tears in your eyes at the pain and regret emanating from his words. You know he blames himself for what happened.

“I know you're sorry but…” you closed your eyes, trying to steady your thoughts into words. “It's not your fault, Gator.”

You reach your hand out, placing it on his and squeezing gently.

“Bunny, I can't go back to pretending we don't give a shit about each other. I'm moving back home.” He fixed you with a serious gaze. Giving you no room for discussion or arguing.

“And there are going to be some nights I get home late, maybe not until morning.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and gave a reassuring squeeze. “You have to trust me when I say I am doing this for both of us.”

“You aren't going to tell me what's going on?” Your voice trembled.

“Bunny, I can't. Just please, trust me. It's all going to be okay.” There was something in the way he said it so reassuringly and unwavering.

“I trust you, Gator. I love you.” The words came out as you reached over wrapping your arms around his neck hugging him tightly to you.

“I love you, Bunny.”

In the following days, he moved his things back home as you both fell back into routine.

He rolled in some late nights, but you didn't ask any questions. He would come home and crawl into bed, pulling you into him, just like tonight.

You'd heard him enter, as a small smile crept at the corners of your lips when his arm wound around your waist with his warm chest to your back. His face buried into your neck, freshly washed hair tickling at your cheek as he sighed heavily.

“You awake baby?” He whispered, lips grazing your skin.

“Yeah, can't sleep until you get home.” He smiled at your admission but his heart aches all the same.

“I have to leave early in the morning.” He kisses your shoulder before continuing. “Whatever happens, I love you.”

You knew better than to ask what he meant. You just closed your eyes, praying to whoever might listen that whatever tomorrow would bring he'd come back home to you.

“I love you too.” You whispered through the dark, as the two of you held each other tight.

True to his word, his alarm blared before the sun rose, startling you both awake.

You'd followed him to the kitchen, watching his every move. Boxers slung low in his hips with his hair messy from sleep as your eyes drank in every detail.

“Baby, you didn't have to get up with me.” He chided, back of his knuckles running across your cheek as he sat beside you on the couch.

You curled into him, wrapping your arms around his torso, as he draped his over you resting his hand on your hip.

“Wanted to be with you.” Mumbling from your position, your head resting on his chest. He chuckled into his coffee before taking a sip.

“Whatever it is, you could just stay home. You don't have to go.” You muttered, grip on his waist tightening.

“I wish I could.” He kissed the top of your head, basking in warmth and love that he'd never had from anyone before you. Never thought he would be worthy of it, if he was being honest with himself. If he could bottle this moment and take it with him, he'd never ask for anything more.

He truly loves you more than anything in the world and reminds himself that this is for you. The both of you.

You stayed close to him until he practically had to push you off of him to head out, although reluctantly.

Once he laced his boots, he wrapped his arms around you one last time as you did the same, his hand rubbed your back with his lips pressed to your temple.

“I love you Bunny, but I've got to go baby.”

You hesitantly pull away, as he gathers his vest, slipping it over his shoulders.

“Be careful. I love you.” Saying it as he took his leave. You watched from the kitchen window as his truck left the driveway, taillights disappearing down the road.

You wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so you began getting ready for your shift at the bar. Henry was more than happy to give you your old job back after Gator made it impossible to go back to the Tender Trap with his rescue mission.

It was one of those days that he didn't text very much which usually meant it was a Roy’s business kind of day, always leaving you on edge.

Your shift was going smoothly, which seemed to improve your mood. You checked your phone at break to find a missed call from Gator.

He'd left a voicemail, that you immediately began to play.

“Hey Bunny, I know you're working but I wish I could have caught you. Baby, I know I've been quiet about everything and I'm sorry. Just know that whatever goes down today that I love you. I just wanted you to know that, and… (muffled background noise) shit … I've got to go.”

It caught you off guard. You sat there looking at the phone in your hand, as you swallowed a lump you hadn't realized was caught in your throat.

“What the fuck?” You breathed out.

You dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. Your heart rate kicked up with your mind visiting the worst possibilities.

You sent him a quick text hoping he would see it and put some of your worry at ease.

Baby, please call me back when you get this. I love you.

You shoved it back into your apron pocket making sure it was on vibrate making your way back into the bar.

You made your rounds checking tables, as you heard sirens approach, snapping your head up to watch five black unmarked SUVs pass by quickly headed East.

It caught the attention of the entire bar; everyone was silent for a beat as they watched.

“What the hell was that?” Henry, cutting through the quiet.

“I don't know, but it doesn't look good.” You watched them until they disappeared down the road and out of sight.

Andy burst through the door a few moments later, making a beeline straight for you. Looking a little worse for wear, color drained from his face aside from his flushed cheeks. When he'd gotten closer you noticed a cut on his left eyebrow.

“Y/N! Something's going down at the ranch. I think Roy's finally lost his goddamn mind. Feds are headed over there.” He rushed out, breathless as if he'd run all the way here.

So, this was it. His unwillingness to answer questions and sneaking around. It started to make sense. Something big went down and he's known about it, keeping you in the dark.

Gator, what the fuck have you done?

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arioloyal · 6 months

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[[Sepandarmazgan]](King baldwin iv x reader)])

Part2

[Jerusalem- 1182]

Sibylla's pov:

I wasn't there the day that the young traveler appeared on my brother's path with her long hair and strange black clothes. I had gone outside Jerusalem with some of my companions to meet balian. When I came back, I realized that the story of my younger brother's acquaintance with that stranger has become a new topic for any conversation.

All the people were asking one thing: who is this girl who is not known where she came from?, what is her origin?, how come the king of the holy land took her seriously and almost bowed to her?...

Since I have been used to seeing everyone bow to my brother since childhood, I never thought that one day he would bow to someone as a sign of respect. He only bowed in supplication before the statue of Jesus during worship, not before lesser and ordinary persons. That's why I didn't believe what I heard. But when I returned, Raymond confirmed the matter, and as I've never heard such a loyal person tell a lie till this day, I was forced to believe that Baldwin had kissed the stranger's hand at court, in front of everyone.

Besides, as Tiberias said, this uninvited guest who seems to be y/n of Persia, is destined to stay with us from now on.

Who is this stranger who suddenly came down from the heaven with a basket and just appeared in front of him? I wanted to look for her and see her with my own eyes. As soon as I saw Tiberias, I asked him: "Then why can't this girl be found?"

Tiberias silenced me by whispering: "Shh...his majesty and Lady y/n have gone to that bedchamber and closed all the doors."

From a distance, their voices sounded like whispers, but it was impossible to understand what they were saying. I was going that way when Tiberias stopped me again.

:"You better wait Sibylla, they don't want to be disturbed."

Guy de lusignan's pov:

...the long days in Jerusalem are not easily over. But they did not come out, the next day was the same, the next day again...how many words did they already have to talk to each other? What could the king of Jerusalem have in common with an ordinary person?

...One week passed, another week was the same... The servants and physicians lined up behind together every day and left the that leper's medicine , fresh bandages and food behind it and left. Although every day more delicious food was cooked than the day before, baldwin and y/n seemed to eat nothing but a piece of wheat bread and a bowl of milk and left the rest behind the door.

The order of the court was messed up. Every day that passed, I became more nervous and curious; I'm always calm, but this time it was different. At different hours of the day, I would stick my eyes to the door and look inside the room. I eavesdropped tirelessly every day. What if this girl knows about the caravan that Reynald and I robbed? as that orange-colored traitor said: "You should be afraid of famous people"...

But in any case, I did not see anything special. The curtains were drawn halfway. Except for the few words I stole in the air, the only thing I could hear was endless whispers. When there is nothing to see or hear, a person starts to fantasize in his mind. Maybe something has happened to the girl...

Once, Sibylla surprised me while I was listening to the door. she was angry and surprised. I think she also came here out of curiosity and wanted to know what kind of long story this is. Honestly, women are naturally curious. they can't help it.

My princess's eyes became like wild cats and she whispered her words in my face angrily.

:"You have no right to eavesdrop here. Since when did you worry about your king? You are not even allowed to enter this corridor."

Thank God I always keep my excuses in my pockets already: "Your lover now has the support of your brother. I have thousands of Knights and Templars at my disposal, and I have the power to do anything without his permission, but before that, I must remind the king that I am asking for your hand in marriage, otherwise your son's rule will be nothing but destruction... I came to talk to him, but it seems he has a beloved guest who never gets tired of being with her almost a month everyday..." I don't know why, but suddenly I laughed at the thought of it. wondering what just happened there...

(To be continued...)

#kingdom of heaven #king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven 2005 #the leper king #art #artists on tumblr #movies #fandom #quotes #imagine #fanfic #fan fiction #pov #x reader #reader insert

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duck-in-a-thrift-store · 13 days

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Prologue? Pilot? IDK Man I Just Work Here

(part 1.2)

{hey so uhhhh

i have finals coming up and its the last week of classes and im lowkey failing two of mine right now, so unfortunately im going to have to go on hiatus for a bit- even though i literally just started, ugh- while i try to catch up and deal with... all that

that said, ive decided to split the prologue up into three parts instead of two and just go ahead and give you what ive got so far of the rest of it

this and the third (and hopefully final) segment is where we really start setting up/contextualizing the "full house" premise of the fic

link to part 1.1 here}

~~~

So, over the next several weeks, they come up with a plan.

Most of them aren’t exactly happy about the plan, but… oh well.

The parents are determined to move their children- who have proven themselves to be prime targets for the supernatural- out of town, to relocate them somewhere they’ll be well-removed from the apocalypse unfolding in Hawkins. Caught up to speed about the history of Hawkins Lab and Owens’s involvement in everything, they all but order him to help with the arrangements.

And he delivers. Calls are made, blueprints are drawn, and before they know it, a plot of land has been secured two thousand miles away in California for a house to be built on. And it’s going to have to be a pretty big house, considering it’ll be home to six teenagers and a pre-teen.

The kids are dead set on not being separated again; it’s one of their conditions for agreeing to leave. Steve can’t blame them, honestly. After everything they’ve been through together, he doesn’t want to be apart from them either. In fact, he’s been feeling a bit paralyzed by the thought, has had a little trouble breathing since the move was decided.

He’s sort of out of it the next time everyone gathers at the hospital to hash out the details, to be honest, but in his defense, his head isn’t quite what it used to be before all the hits he’s taken in recent years.

But then the ongoing discussion turns to who will look after the kids, and well, that certainly gets his attention.

There’s a military blockade taking shape around the area, keeping the threat contained- but also the citizens. It’s only through Owens’s connections and influence that they’ll be able to sneak the kids out, and just that in itself is going to be risky. As much as they’d like to, they can’t take everyone.

The parents have agreed to join the resistance that’s starting to form, a force of townsfolk who have finally realized what’s really happening and are banding together to find a solution, or at least hold off the Upside Down from taking over for as long as they can. Hopper and Joyce have taken it upon themselves to teach everyone as much as they can about what they’re up against, and a few of the others are helping out with pooling resources and organizing community childcare.

For various reasons, their families won’t be coming along.

“Who’s going to take care of you all?” Sue asks, her question directed more towards the room at large than the kids themselves. “None of you are older than fifteen; I don’t want you out there on your own with no adult supervision.”

Karen starts to say something, probably about how she doesn’t intend to let Nancy stay behind either, that there will definitely be at least one person over fifteen present, but Steve cuts her off in his eagerness. He practically jumps out of his seat, actually, but he’s held in place by his desperate grip on the sheets of the hospital bed he’s still stuck in until he’s done recovering from the demobat bites.

“I’ll do it!”

Once again, all eyes are on him, and they’re broadcasting confusion, surprise- in the case of the parents, that is. The kids mostly look relieved. None of them will say it- the little shits- but he’s pretty sure they were just as worried about leaving him behind as he was about sending them away.

Claudia tilts her head at him in question. “You? What, by yourself?”

Steve figures the faintly bitter disbelief in her voice has less to do with him and more to do with Dustin’s deadbeat dad, so he chooses not to take it to heart. But before he can make a remark about how some men are actually interested in fatherhood- although he’s not entirely sure what his brain even means by that- Karen Wheeler speaks up.

“Not by himself, no. What I was about to say a moment ago was that Nancy is going too. I don’t want my daughter staying here after being involved with all this pretty much since the beginning. But, Steve, even then, you’re hardly adults yourselves- Nancy only just graduated high school last week. I don’t think you two should be left to basically parent seven kids all alone; it’s too much responsibility.”

(While she does have a point, and he’s certainly not opposed to having Nancy out of harm’s way, it’s also important to note that the daughter in question is currently busy giving shooting lessons to a sizable portion of the resistance. Nancy is no stranger to responsibility, but she isn’t exactly the motherly type, either. Regardless, Steve wants both roles for himself- at least on a subconscious level. He’s not quite aware of it yet, his rightful place as both mom and dad to the party, but… he’ll get there. He thinks of himself more as a glorified babysitter, really, but it is a position he takes very seriously nowadays.)

Mistaking Steve's spacey expression for something else, Dustin mutters smugly beside him, “I bet you would looove that.”

Steve rolls his eyes and shoots back, “Can it, kid. We’ve been over this. Nance and I are not getting back together.”

Nancy and Jonathan broke up after her graduation, for reasons which Steve has decided are none of his business. In some ways, this made the idea of rekindling their relationship- something his friends insisted he should try to do- more of an actual possibility. And yet, somehow, that in itself helped him realize that he doesn’t really want to get back together. And he knows she feels the same, even if there are some weird lingering feelings on both sides of the issue. They simply aren’t compatible, and that’s okay. It took him a while to get here, but now he’s happy just being her friend.

Thankfully, Robin joins in, interrupting that awkward train of thought and providing the solution to a problem Steve hasn't even considered yet.

“They wouldn’t be alone, Mrs. Wheeler. I can help out, too.”

“You would do that? Move across the country and play house with me and these brats?”

“Of course I would, dingus. Where you go, I go.”

The fondness in their exchange prompts some raised eyebrows from the others, but that’s irrelevant. Steve is just massively thankful that Robin is offering to come along. Having to choose between the kids and his platonic soulmate would have torn him apart just as badly as the bats did.

“And I’d say the same about Will and El,” Jonathan says as he joins the group. “So I hope there’s room for a couple more.” He glances questioningly at Argyle, who came in with him.

Argyle just shrugs. “I’m sticking with you, man.” Apparently, his parents turned him out to fend for himself when he hit eighteen, so he doesn’t have much to go back to, and he’s been content staying with the Byers until the blockade is lifted- or for the long haul, it seems.

Karen nods in Jonathan’s direction. “Good, I’m sure Joyce will feel better knowing you’ll be there.”

So that makes five of us. Considering I’ve wrangled most of these guys on my own plenty of times by now, that should be totally manageable. I guess it will be nice to have some guaranteed backup for once.

It looks like the gang is staying together after all, plus at least one new-ish addition.

But, speaking of "new-ish additions" to the group, there is still a six-foot deep hole in the entire plan, which is the question of what to do with a dead man when all his remaining friends are ditching town.

“What about... Eddie?”

~~~

{well folks theres the second installment of the prologue. as for the rest of it... youll get it when you get it. hopefully ill be able to start updating more regularly once i go back home for the summer. things are just kinda crazy right now hahahahaha <-(the deranged laughter of a person whose ass is not passing all their courses this time and is very seriously considering becoming a college dropout)

oh and yeah so eddies dead i guess. not what i had planned but sometimes the plot just does what it wants. you know how full house basically starts off with dannys wife dying in a car accident (offscreen and prior to the events of the actual show anyway)? and steve is like, very loosely the au's parallel of danny? well you might not have known that actually but i just told you. so. yeah. you get where this is going

also, to my unofficial beta readers and lovely mutuals @moreover-clover and @redley-of-many-noodles: i have seen your comments/messages and i appreciate your input, but ive decided im going to try not to take this project too seriously and just have fun with it rather than worry about how polished it is, so i think this is going to be a no beta project from here on out. thank you for the thoughtful commentary/critiques on part 1.1, and i do hope you continue to enjoy it <3

having said that, if anyone happens to notice glaringly obvious/simple typos that i could easily fix, or if any parts are just genuinely incomprehensible, feel free to point it out/ask for clarification if you want to}

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phoneybeatlemania · 8 months

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I have a question..if everyone is saying that the last time John and Paul met up was 1976 wouldn’t that make Carl Perkins a liar then? I just can’t figure out why he would make up a story that Paul had seen John just a few weeks before he was murdered. Do you think it really never happened? Your take? Thanks.

Hiya @missu4everjohnny !

Its been awhile since Ive answered an ask, and Id need to brush up on my Beatles knowledge to answer this fully, but ill try lol.

This post from @venusmelody I believe uses the Carl Perkins anecdote you're referring to:

John Lennon had been killed only months before outside his apartment building, the Dakota in New York. Linda explained that, although it wasn’t publicly known, only days before his death, she and Paul had visited John and Yoko at the Dakota. At the end of the visit, as they were saying good-bye, John said to Paul, “Think of me every now and then, my old friend”.

– “Crossing Over: The Stories Behind the Stories” by John Edwards. Princess. (New York: 2001). Pages 150-151. Ch 6: Legends of Rock and Roll.

The generally accepted final meeting between John and Paul is 25th April, 1976, the day after they considered reuniting for Saturday Night Live because they were too lazy to get off their arses.

My opinion is that its pretty possible that John and Paul met sometime after this date, although notably I don't think John (throughout his lifetime) or Paul ever confirmed any subsequent meetings.

There's a few other stories from people who recall John and Paul meeting following this date though, with a few interesting ones listed in this post here!

I don't really know who Id say I believe here. Like I said, its possible they met again, but I wouldn't say any of these statements are a conviction of any sort, although it does help that they seem reasonably corroborated*. Im probably more drawn to believe that they did meet again, because 4 years is a long time not to see someone you're very close with. But then again, when you've known someone as long as John and Paul knew each other, and you have your own career, family and life elsewhere, maybe four years passes quite quickly and you don't realise its been that long.

And then of course there's a level of wishful thinking that goes into believing that they met beyond April 1976, which I don't think negates the belief, but it is important to still acknowledge the bias.

*Having said that though, the quote from James McCartney ("I know John held me as a baby. Then I have memories of the Dakota building, very white, lots of sunlight pouring in") is interesting because its unlikely an adult would remember something from the of of 3 years old (see: infantile amnesia), which makes me wonder if maybe he'd been told throughout his life about the time John Lennon held him when he was a baby. And that then makes you question if it would have been his parents who told him this, since presumably he'd only believe it from a reliable source. I don't know, can of worms lol.

#have to bob off to a gig now so byeeee (for now lol)#but yay first ask I've answered in awhile :)#asks #beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #lemme know your thoughts !#and if there's anyone else who claims they met beyond 1976

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sincerely-sofie · 1 month

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The finishing of this fanfic has left me with some pretty mixed emotions. On the one hand, I dont want it to end. It's such an incredible piece of work and even though I finally committed to reading it a few weeks ago, it already feels like such a significant part of my life. On the other hand, I'm a little glad that it's over. FAR from the sense it was bad (I'll steal your liver if thats how you interpret it) but moreso in the sense that it was like a good crying session. It's something that a lot of us (or I assume a lot of us) typically want to avoid even though we know its good for us, and satisfying after the fact. It's like catharsis in a way. Endings aren't always a great feeling in the moment, but it's something that we can look back on with a fondness.

I'm so glad I found this work. I'm being completely serious when I say that this fanfic, and the other content you make, has changed my life for the better. Its helped me reconnect with that love I have for creativity after nearly a decade of not making anything even though I wanted to. It's helped pulled me out of a few ruts of depression. It's helped me realize that I'm not actually emotionally stunted (per my own conclusions) and be more willing to cry instead of burying those feelings. In the past I would just, kill these kinda thoughts before they got far because of how much I wanted to avoid crying. Much less actually writing them down, or express them to someone else. But now, I've been crying the whole time I write this, and for the first time in, I think ever, I'm okay with that. I know we don't actually know each other, but you've genuinely helped me become a better person with the things you make. Thank you so much for everything you've done Sofie. hey look! I got your name right!

But enough about me. I feel like it's getting indulgent at this point. (I've gotten dehydrated with how much ive cried writing this and from what I can tell, you cry a lot more than I do. So go drink some water first, and then) I wanna hear your thoughts. What are your thoughts and feelings about your work being finished? Do you have plans to take a break from creative endevors for a while, or are you gonna keep going? Are you going to be expanding more on this and other au's, different fanworks or move into something completely your own? Whatever the case may be, I'm excited to see what more you are going to come up with!

From the bottom of my heart, and on behalf of everyone else, Thank you for everything.

It's so surreal to have posted that final chapter. I finished the first draft almost 100 days ago exactly, and I spent a number of days after completing it kind of adrift. I'd go to my computer every morning like I had during the month prior and sit down, ready to write, only to remember that I was actually supposed to be taking a break before I made the final edits. It didn't click in my head that I had actually done it… until a couple weeks later when it hit me like a truck that I had an entire completed manuscript sitting in my Google Docs. I think I was making myself lunch at that moment, and I had to bolt to lie down on the floor and put my legs up against the wall because I was ready to pass out at the realization.

This feels pretty similar. For me, The Present is a Gift— the main fanfic, at least— was finished in mid-January. But the process of uploading it and agonizing over what people thought of every passing update wouldn't be formally done until about 3 months later. It still hasn't clicked in my head that I won't be posting a new update once Tuesday rolls around.

On the subject of taking a break— I've actually been taking a break, at least partway! I've barely written anything after I finished TPiaG's first draft, and I haven't drawn much “serious” art, for lack of a better word, since I started my blog. I've still been making things, yes, but scattered oneshots and sketchy pieces without solid lineart are not my typical fare. I'm usually a lot more “exact” with what I make— words fail me here— I hope I'm not being too vague! I might take a brief break as I finish up the winter semester, but that would be less a break from creating and more of an “OH MY WORD I NEED TO FOCUS ON NOTHING BUT PASSING THESE COURSES” kinda thing.

TPiaG (along with its derivative AUs) is still very much a living project to me— there's a lot more stories the characters have in them, even if I struggle to envision a full-on sequel. I'm absolutely going to answer the asks relating to it that I've received over the months along with any I continue to receive, and if I get any ideas for comics or oneshots here and there, I'll make them. As for what's officially next up on the Sincerely Sofie menu, I'm planning to make a visual novel that's a lot more meaty than the last one I made. I'm not sure if it will be original or based on TPiaG— but a visual novel is the medium I'm planning on!

I'm so overwhelmed by your kindness. I truly don't have any words. This project started off as something private to help distract me from a depressive episode and to process trauma, and it's become so much more. I'm so glad it was able to help you. Catharsis was the keyword for TPiaG— I wanted it to uproot difficult emotions and help people start to heal from them, but I never dreamed it would really help anyone but myself. So to hear it was able to provide you with that is unbelievably meaningful to me.

I gave myself the goal somewhat recently to let myself cry whenever the urge strikes me. I used to go months without crying, and whenever I did shed tears, it was alone in my room while muffling the few sounds I accidentally let slip. I'm a natural crybaby, but I had schooled myself into thinking for a number of reasons that it was bad to cry— that it was selfish, or attention-seeking, or weak— so I've been trying to reclaim my teary-eyed identity. It's been difficult, but it's so freeing to let myself feel things fully. All of this is to say: let the tears fall. I've helped more people by crying than my stoicism ever did.

Thanks again. I can't properly word my gratitude, but know that it's overwhelming :,>

#sofie answers asks #the present is a gift au

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i-need-some-advice-on · 3 months

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would it be wrong to say i have a special interest if i dont have autism? sorry, this turned out a lot longer than i meant it to. i split it into paragraphs so it wouldnt just be a huge wall of text with no breaks.

i have adhd and i do get hyperfixations but hyperfixations generally arent this long lasting based on what i know. i might be wrong, correct me if i am but it seems like hyperfixations are for shorter periods and are really really intense. when i have a hyperfixation it can impact my ability to function in day to day life for a few weeks or even months but then it calms down. my perception of special interests is that they are still a lot more intense than just casually liking something but they are more drawn out and usually dont make it hard for you to do normal tasks.

there is one animal that i first learned about when i was pretty young. its maybe been 12 years since i first learned about them? not sure exactly. ever since i first heard about them i have loved them. they are my favorite animal and largely influenced my choice of college major. i try not to seem annoying or talk too much about them but if anyone asks about them or shows even a mild interest i have a hard time not telling them all about how incredible this animal is and i have to remind myself that most of the time theyre just acting interested to be polite and are really just trying to make small talk.

its more than just a casual interest and it genuinely impacts my life in a lot of ways but it is nothing like any hyperfixation ive ever had. its almost like its more diluted because its been spread out more you know? like a hyperfixation is like filling up a glass with water but this is like you dumped the glass into a casserole dish or something. the water level is lower but the surface area is bigger. i dont know if that makes sense. the thing is, ive only ever seen 'special interest' used by autistic people/to refer to autistic people's special interests. its the closest word i can think of to describe what this animal is to me, but i dont have autism, just adhd. also before you say have i considered that i have both: yes, i have considered it, and i am 99% sure its just adhd. i definitely dont want to take any terms that are specifically for the autistic community. would it be okay to say this animal is my special interest?

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wintermutal · 7 months

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i think. if i didnt have work for a bit. i could just recede from the world and write and it would iron out quite a few of my neuroses. like it would wrinkle many others but i think like. if i just spent like a few months writing it could help me but i kinda missed my chance on that one lmao, i wrote during covid but i didnt have the sort of urgency that comes with handling ones own time when you work 40 hours a week as well.

the good news is that im writing and reading in my free time again since i quit my second job. im trying actively to write more on encouragement from my therapist because its a more healthy outlet than what else ive been doing. thats where the 'i could fix myself if i could just do nothing but this for a while' stuff comes from, but unfortunately i think quitting my job and just writing is infeasible on many levels, which is a shame.

i keep telling myself i need to work on the actual book part of the book itself, but i keep gravitating towards the other stuff instead thats just pure indulgent fic, and i find myself writing right before i fall asleep again, which i havent done since college, and unfortunately i am learning about myself from this. for years ive drawn a hard line between 'productive writing for a potential audience' and 'fic-esque writing thats just for me and noone else to enjoy', but now that im writing again with the intent of Fixing Me the fic stuff do be revealing truths about me as a person, such as what i enjoy and how i think about myself and how i wish i could be loved, even if it is uncomfortably soft, and again i have to wonder about how the mindset of discriminating between these two forms of writing affects me.

ive written hundreds of thousands of words of the soft stuff over the years ive been writing in this universe, and i dont consider any of it productive just for the crime of it being soft. what is the rhetorical and literary use of tenderness? why do i feel uncomfortable with the idea of merging the hard and soft sides of my art? is it because i feel like my 'real' writing continuously lacks structure and vital components, while i dont feel the same about the other stuff, because i dont hold it to any standard of care and nobody has to see it but me?

the end result is partially like, i need to accept that art is part of human nature and i as a person need to write for my brain to be okay, even if its produced without the intent of ever being shown to another person, because the value of art is not just determined by others. but this is a very hard thing to accept

"what is the rhetorical and literary use of tenderness?", though. i think thats something interesting to think about so thats what im taking from this tumblr dot com text post

#vandal.txt #writing

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the-kipsabian · 8 months

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i have my two cents nobody asked for but i do have them

orange cassidy was one of the staple names of aew for me since the very beginning. he was one of the few kids from indies (hilariously enough, considering how old he is actually lol) that i knew beforehand and whos work i greatly enjoyed (janela and mjf being few others, for example), so ive been drawn to him since the very beginning of this company; hes one of the names that got me interested in aews potential, and what they could offer to me as an alternative, cause if they choose to hire him, they knew what they were doing

ive been in his corner since day one. be it comedy wrestling or any of this more serious stuff. him winning the belt was huge, and he continued to make it, he kept it important. hes the second ever international champion, and its already one of the most prestigious titles in this company. because of him, his title reign and how he defended it

watching oc go through all of this, the character growth through the months and how hes been dealing with all of this - especially with last weeks stadium stampede - has been.. i dont know if theres proper words for it, honestly. it sure has been something. the one thing thats sad about it is that people are finally getting behind him and seeing how fucking good he really is only after it all became serious like this, but also i get it. he is not everyones cup of tea, but boy howdy he should be. man so versatile he puts everyone else to shame fr

he has done so great. matchups nobody thought possible, and hes almost always come out on top. orange cassidy elevated not only his game throughout all of this, he elevated the entire game. his opponents, the whole ass fucking playing field. improvise. adapt. overcome. nobody do it in this game like orange cassidy

am i sad he lost the title to mox? yeah. all personal bias aside, i think we should have given him more time, mainly cause the last few weeks he has been absolutely insane and i wish we could have seen him build on that more. more talk time like hes been having, i dont say more blood orange cause thats.. twice is already so much. but more time to show this feral stray cat side of him, him talking shit and elevating even on that game, putting the money where his mouth is. we needed more of that honestly before he was dethroned and had to move on to hopefully a well deserved rest for a while, especially since what we got was absolutely incredible and got peoples attention. he deserves more than that, so people can be taking notice when he scoots over to world title pictures next cause lbr, thats where this superstar is heading

i do hope mox keeps this title growing. he is more than capable of it for sure, but also i just dont think we are ever seeing as hard of a title reign in this company as orange cassidys. that man is one of a kind, and so deserving of all of his roses that will ever come to his way. and i think, love him or hate him, everyone should give him those roses after all of this

thank you

#orange cassidy #my beloved #sweet little clementine #i dont know if this makes sense my brain is overheated mush rn #all i can hope rn is that 1. oc gets the rest he needs. he has so deserved all of it #and 2. that despite losing the title kip will still be obsessed with him lol. that one im not ready to let go #wrestling musing

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edoro · 10 months

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recently i’ve ended up in the ER twice about a week apart (one time for “left side chest pain for hours”, one time for “inexplicably can’t breathe and my inhaler isn’t helping”) and since nothing was observably wrong with me either time i can only assume that i’m suffering under a witch’s curse or possibly experiencing physical stress illness due to the general state of my life

these events HAVE however given me the chance to practice one of my superpowers, which is Being Really Chill When People Stick Needles In Me, Especially If They Fuck It Up

(Talking About Needles And Stuff below the cut)

i’m generally an easy stick, because i have good, very visible veins and am not remotely bothered by needles (in fact i often watch them stick me AND watch the blood come out because i think it’s cool)

however, these last two times i’ve ended up with a graduate intern and a med school student respectively being the ones to place my IV and try to draw my blood, and Boy Have They Needed The Practice

between the diabetes and the hormones, i’ve gotten blood drawn 2-4 times per year for the last three years, not counting supplemental testing for things like my eventual fibro diagnosis or “hey, why is my hair falling out?”, and i used to donate plasma as many times a week as they’d late me for a solid few months, so i’m used to it being a quick and painless process that leaves me with nothing worse than a little scab and occasionally slight bruising right around the entry wound

this has not been the case these last few times! they have Butchered Me! the intern blew the first vein she tried, so i expected that bruise

(it was v funny, because i watched her put the needle in, then kinda pull it out and wiggle it around to reposition, and she got one vial of blood before it just stopped as the skin in the crook of my elbow right above the needle slowly swelled up into a taut, shiny balloon

at which point she went, “heyyyy, Maritza, can you come here a second?” like yeah i think we need some help in here, Maritza

i was not emotionally distressed by this but it made me get very hot and sweaty because my body was just going “now son this just isn’t right, this isn’t right at all, something is happening that should not be”)

but the draw sites on my other arm that didn’t have any apparent issues have also developed enormous bruises, and last night the poor med student had to get me three times (blowing a vein in the process as well), and then resorted to trying to suck the blood out of the IV in the back of my hand through a syringe because it just was not coming out

eventually he just gave up and sent a phlebotomist to get the rest of it, which was thankfully a painless and fairly quick process, but now THAT draw site in the back of my OTHER hand is bruised to hell as well, and i feel a little bit like a pincushion

so i’ve decided that i’m simply not allowed to have any more actual or possible medical problems for at least the next couple of weeks until the bruising fades, because they are simply Running Out Of Veins and i’m about to be going around looking like someone slammed my arms in a door or something

#personal #medical stuff #specifically needles

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miracleqmusical · 4 months

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its been a whole since ive written anything.. hello

life has actually been getting really good. im glad the world didnt end last month.

i started talking with a friend a lot, then we started matching pfps and talking everyday and then i developed a crush on him. we would kinda flirt back and forth in a sorta joking way but then things kinda escalated HELP. we officially became a thing 1-4-24 :3. i enjoy every moment spent with them

so i guess thats me revealing that the guy i was incredibly head over heels for isnt the one. idk why i loved him so much. hes a piece of shit :/ hes already been shit talking me LMFAO. like werent you in love with me a few weeks ago? its whatever. im not focused on him anymore. im focused on L! i heart L

something bad happened on the 5th, my online friend group split up. i knew it was bound to happen, but it actually made me horribly sad. i miss them a lot and its only been a few days. days have been feeling like weeks. and worst of all, my best friends left while i was asleep, so i woke up to the group falling apart. they were my whole world, my roman empire. i was dependent and attached to them. but i mean, its not like my best friends left ME.. we’re still friends.. but its not really the same. our server was deleted too. that crushed me, even though i hated that place. there were so many problems and flaws in our group that it was the best we split up. but i miss them so much :,(

im starting to realize i have a presence in the real world and i dont just exist online. i dissociate a lot of my life i think.. i need to wake up

okay whatever boohoo abt my life time to mpve on to how much i love L

i listen to his favorite music artists to feel closer to him, i think about him all the time, ive drawn him, i talk about him to my best friend all the time, i look for signs in his reposts

AM I CRAZY? crazy in love (praying he’ll never find this account)

i really hope we last, universe let me have this one. let this one work out because i loooove herrr

they are so pretty, i love their smile and the way they laugh. i love his drawings and freckles on her face O_o i love the way he talks about me and the way we joke around. i love them so much i dont believe it

this is so cringe i wanna die

whatever

goodbye 🖤

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my-precious-treasure · 2 years

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Beside Me

BNHA Masterlist

TW: Angst, mention of death, hospitals Very loosely inspired by Electric Lover by Breathe Electric

He glances down at his phone for probably the fifteenth time since he'd gotten on the helicopter "Sweetheart, I wish you were beside me." He wants to reply but can't seem to find the right words. "Me too" was too simple and yet, was there really another way to reply? Maybe he should say "I'll be home soon" but what if something happens? He can't let his last words be a lie. So, he says nothing. Instead he opts to imagine them caressing his face.

"Chargebolt! We're almost at the drop site. Are you ready?" He blinks, drawn back to reality, back to the mission.

"Yeah." He stands, slipping his phone into his zipper pocket, ensuring it won't fall out. Checking that his parachute is properly strapped on, he prepares to jump.

~ ~ ~

You glance at your phone again, hoping for a message, but knowing there won't be any. He's on a mission after all, but it'd been so long since you've seen him; nearly two weeks. It wasn't odd for him to not text back immediately while working, but it's been too long. Everyday, you watch the news, hoping, praying to see anything about the hero.

Your heart drops to your stomach as you read the early afternoon headline. Three Heroes Critically Injured and One Dead on Raid. The announcer's voice carries through the room as you stare at the pictures on the screen.

"Authorities raided a villain's hideout late last night when the building went up in flames. Investigations are on-going as to how the fire started, however it seems that it was due to an electrical failure."

"Oh, God, please. . .no. . .please. . ."

You nearly scream as your phone begins to ring. Hastily, you answer, voice shaking.

"Is this Y/L/N Y/N?"

"Y-yes, it is."

"This is Akagawa Yumiko from Tohoku University Hospital. Pro hero Chargebolt requested we call you as soon as he woke up. Is there any way for you to come here so we can give you a full medical run down?"

You shout in agreement before you can stop yourself, "Yes! Yes, absolutely! I-I can be there in about 3 hours."

"Alright, I'll let the staff know. Have a safe trip."

~ ~ ~

You all but slam into the receptionists' desk, panting heavily. The staff look up startled as you choke out, "Kaminari Denki! Pro hero Chargebolt, please! Where is he?!"

One of the older ladies takes in your panicked state, "Are you Y/L/N Y/N?"

"Yes!"

"Very well," She stands up walking out from behind the counter, "Follow me, dearie."

She leads you down a few hallways and into an elevator. Your heart pounds in your chest with every passing moment silently begging for her to move faster, but you don't utter a word. Taking a left into ICU, you subconsciously clench your jaw. You knew the news said he was in critical condition, but even after surgery, he was put in ICU?

You're brought to a stop in front of a closed door. Somehow, it seems to loom over you, taunting you.

"This is it, love. I'll leave you be, now." The receptionist carefully treads back the way she'd come, leaving you alone, staring at the piece of wood blocking you from the one you love.

Hesitantly, you bring your hand up to knock and a gentle "enter" sounds from the other side. When the door swings open the first thing you notice are the large viewing windows and equipment on the side. A steady beeping fills your ears before your eyes finally land on the person you came to see.

Tears form in your eyes and your legs threaten to give out under you. There, wrapped in bandages and with various IV drips attached to him, lies Denki. The steady beep of the heart monitor and the shallow rise and fall of his chest are the only things that indicate that he is, in fact, still alive.

"Oh my. . ." You're uneasy on your feet but somehow you manage to stay up right. Forcing yourself forward, you rest your hands against the cool glass and stare at the now blurry image before you.

"I know it seems bad," a gentle voice beside you pulls your attention away from Denki, "But he's strong. He won't let this keep him down for long."

"Recovery Girl, you. . ."

"I've done what I can for now, the rest is up to him. Besides, he has something to live for." There's a knowing look in her eyes as she gazes up at you. At her words, you finally drop to your knees and let your tears fall freely. Wrapping your arms around her smaller figure, you cry into her shoulder.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She pats your head in an attempt to comfort you.

"There, there. Why don't you dry those tears and go sit with him?" Your puffy eyes widen as you look up at her. Your voice catches as you try to speak normally, "I-I can do that?"

"Of course. Come now, stand up." She walks across the room to a door you hadn't noticed in your distress.

"Grab that chair there and take a mask. Stay as long as you need." With the push of a button the door clicks open, and you step through nervously. Before it closes behind you, though, Recovery Girl speaks once more, "I can't promise he'll wake anytime soon, but if he does, I know he'll be glad to see you. You were the first person he asked for after he came to after surgery. We can go over his operation details when you're in a better state of mind."

Carefully, you set the chair on the side of the bed with less equipment by it and take a seat. You can feel tears forming again as you scan his form more closely now. His sleeping face twitches every now and then in what you can only assume to be pain despite all the medication you know he's on.

"Oh, Denki, my love. . .I'm so sorry!" You gently grasp his limp hand and lower your forehead to his knuckles, too afraid to move his arm. Your tears are silent this time.

"I wish I could do something for you. . .I wish I could have done. . .some. . .thing. . ." Without realizing it, you slip into a dreamless slumber, completely exhausted from the stress of nearly losing your love.

There's a light pressure against your head as you try to open your eyes, however, they're determined to stick together from all your crying. You groan as you sit up rubbing and pulling gently at your eyelashes to free them from the goo.

"Hiya, Sunshine." You tense at the voice, eyes snapping fully open as you finally free them. For a moment you stare at his smiling face in disbelief.

"Denki. . ." It's barely above a whisper, but he hears you nonetheless. His hand moves to hold your face and it's then that you realize the thing on your head that had woken you up was, in fact, his hand as well.

"The one and only." Even though his voice is rough, it's full of his usual teasing tone. He really is going to be ok.

"Hey, why are you crying? It's alright."

"It's not!" You don't mean to raise your voice, but it's hard not to with all these emotions running through you.

"I saw the news and thought you'd died. When I got the call, I was so relieved but when I got here, I really thought you had died. I thought they were wrong. . .Denki, I-" You choke on your words for a moment, "I couldn't do anything except wait to hear from you or about you. When it was about you, I really thought I'd lost the light of my life. I was so afraid I wouldn't even get to say goodbye or that I love you one last time." The smile falls from his face and his hand moves from your face to your hand and holds it firmly.

"I know what I agreed to when I said 'I do' and the consequences that come with your profession, but even so, the thought of losing you terrifies me more than I thought it would now that it almost happened. I need you here, with me. Denki, I love you too much."

"It's ok now, I'm ok now. I promise I'll be more careful in the future, but for now just focus on me. I'm right here beside you, Sweetheart."

#bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #denki #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #denki x reader #kaminari x reader #angst #gender neutral reader #i hope you cry

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ofcowardiceandkings · 9 months

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me rambling about "Staring at the Sun" by Jacob Gellar and how much it smacked me in the face under the cut lol (contains exactly ZERO spoilers for TotK 💙)

AS SOON as i saw that his video would touch on the quests it does in some way i knew it'd fuck me up for a week or two but i didnt expect it to go that way - he rarely dives into the base plot of these things so i knew that was safe but ohhhh man

ive not played The Last Guardian but i know its one of my best friends favourite games, though the light in watching my partner play Shadow of the Colossus was amazing to see, but this really hit me hard because it pin-pointed one of the things i love most and maybe why i just love being in the world of Tears of the Kingdom (and BotW) so much ?? ive always been a fan of impressionist art too, and Turner as well, i've been trying to push myself into that space in my own art for so long. i always feel mega cliche saying these really well known artists are my favourites but i truly mean it jfdkjf ... this is probably one of the reasons i appreciated how bright and chipper the art style for Skyward Sword was with its fading blues and 'brush strokes', but it just doesnt compare to Breath or Tears with the amount of work the light puts in now, i spend so much time just STARING and ive just realised its usually at the light playing the forms and atmosphere in a real but beyond real way

i'm stuck in two art world of really enjoying doing linework and texture - and being reasonable at it - but wanting to go into colour and light though ive never been comfortable with doing so for some reason ??? im trying but i often just forget to try when im just drawing something self-indulgent and silly (most of what i have time for)

the play of light off cave art and that theory has lodged in my head forever too, As A Nerd On Such Things, there's something absolutely stunning about cave art, how it was made how it was put there and why how it was supposed to be viewed if at all, anything. absolutely fascinating, especially with the seemingly shifting images of Chauvet & Lascaux caves ??

a thing that always stuck with me as well - it might seem like a bizarre pull but it feels the same to me - is actually how the sun is portrayed and animated in the 1978 Watership Down ??? pulsing and moving and quaking with pattern and colour, not to be seen properly by us on earth, but you cant NOT look. i've not shaken the imagery of the sun from that movie from my mind since the first time i saw it as a child im STILL obsessed, it STILL almost haunts me

additionally, as someone who's repeatedly defended how these games look to people who complain about framerates and textures and whatever, i appreciate this. don't get me wrong, it doesnt HURT, especially from such a large gaming company (not that Nintendo have ever put heavy focus on the technical specs of their products though lets be real) but Breath/Tears just emphasises how much art direction or a vision can carry a project compared to other high-spec but ultimately forgettable titles. maybe a little much salt in that sentiment on my end but boy it bothers me when its all people can think about.

i'm gonna be stuck here for another few weeks lol this happens every time Jacob posts a video theyre ALL so winding and drawn out and beautiful gjfkds fuck

#this is a really long post im sorry but jesus im gonna be thinking about this for ages #every so often this happens and it confronts me with like ... what i want to do in art and how i sort of forget to try lol #REALLY doesnt help that it links to THAT set of story & quest lines but yknow thats a me being a soft bitch problem #ah anyway now i need to go to bed and sleep i guess ???#oh be still my fragile heart and mind ...#rory's ramblings

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crewofthegoldrush · 1 year

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I'm feeling bad that I don't have any new art to share and probably won't for a few weeks, so to make up for it and to give myself a kick in the pants to get working on this, I want to share the full "prologue" for fool's gold 2

I don't usually like to reveal a lot of my works in progress because I really do like the surprise, but I'm okay posting this because everything is going to get a new coat of paint, it features a conversation Ive already drawn, and I'm no where near finished editing. The final print will be longer, new/fixed dialogue (I don't always remember to write Monty with her cowboy accent lmao) and more exposition but for now, I hope you enjoy a draft!

ONE

You tap the floor twice with your tail, your signal that you were finished for today, and let her help you pick yourself off the floor. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were tryin' to beat me."

Aubrey's lip turns up at the side. "Of course I'm trying to beat you."

You watch her settle against the ship's railing, familiar even on this ship that wasn't yours. You take your place next to her, hyper aware of your petulant body language. You take a swig from your flask, offering it to her after cleaning the spout with a gold glow.

She raises a brow at the metal container, eyeing it wearily, and you manage a grin. "It's just water."

Looking more at ease, she shakes her head anyway, and you let it hang limply in your hand as you fold your arms on the banister.

"Something is bothering you."

You glance at her; Aubrey has mimicked your casual position but her eyes are as intense as they always are as she simply watches you. "It's been months since we started this, Aubrey. Shouldn't I have more than the basics by now? It shouldn't be this hard, should it?"

You were certainly better than where you were when you started. But compared to her, who had picked up firearm training so well that you had very nearly finished her gun by now, you feel indignant at your slow progress.

Aubrey hums. "You don't need to be so hard on yourself. As you've said many times, your heart is not fully in it yet, right? Your magic is improving and there are plenty of regular distractions."

She was right about that - it was hard to truly focus on leisure time when the two of you were still expected to handle your regular duties, now, you suspect, under the watchful eyes of the Tains. Nevermind the fact that, with your ship still seized, you and your team were attending to various matters, both personal and necessary. You yourself had taken up bounty hunting again to keep your coin stock healthy enough, and there were days you didn't see Harper at all.

"Besides," she continues, gesturing for you to hand her your flask, and you do. "Muscle memory is one of the first things you need to train. You are not there yet, but I'm confident that you will."

She tucks your flask away. "You are too stubborn for the case to be anything else."

You grin at her backhanded compliment and the way she just stole what she probably assumed was indeed alcohol from you, something Harper would do for Demetrius. "I can always count on you to humble me, darlin'."

"Just do your homework. Which you haven't been, I've noticed," she adds with a humorous look.

"Like you said, I've been keepin' busy."

Her gun and silencer were almost finished (as was the one Tequila begged you to make for her), but it wasn't just that - you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on almost everyone's business.

Including hers.

"Speakin' of homework - have you been doin' any of those readin's?"

A few months had passed since Lohn Ender, the professor who studied all things dreams in Koranburg, had written you back to let you know he was not able to accommodate a visit, and that if you wanted more information you would need to come see him in person. A firm 'no,' considering he and the other professors were assuredly not pleased that their object of interest had been seized by another country.

But you had a back up. Arthur Weekes, Breezy's father, was an expert in his field about the planes of your world and beyond. You had reached out to him to ask for any and all reading recommendations on the subject of Dal Quor. He had responded eagerly and sent more than just recommendations but a whole crate of books as well.

Breezy had only been a little weirded out that you were now pen pals with her parents, but otherwise seemed to find the situation delightful.

You had loaded these books up in the library, telling Harper that you had faith in Mr. Weekes to be objective, and that if she wanted to pull on this thread, you would help her.

It was a hard topic to broach for the both of you. You had learned from Harper that the creatures known as the Inspired - the ones that your whole crew had seen in their dreams thanks to the proximity to that crystal - were supposed to be angelic, protecting the country of Riedra, and you firmly believe she genuinely thinks this. But she had also learned that you and your team had witnessed Dal Quor first hand and that there was nothing angelic about it. You have no doubt she believes you, and them - they did not know she was from Riedra, and have no reason to be lying about this.

It was not your place to question her handlers - far be it from you to 'splain to an assassin spy a damn thing about her own country. But the conflicting accounts was intriguing to both of you.

Aubrey leans against the railing, looking out over the docks. "Some. It's certainly strange to read about dreams. But it's familiar. I never used to have them before frequenting Khovaire, so I had to be taught how to correspond in ornoric language."

You turn your head at her sharply, shocked and immediately invested. "You've never had your own dreams?"

You watch her think that over, as if unsure what or how much to tell you. It wasn't unusual for her to speak about her past as Aubrey, but it was certainly rare and she was selectively forthcoming, compared to Harper who seemed to have less issue giving you pieces of her past so long as she was vague about it. "Mostly, no."

Her eyes dart around the deck where you two are quite alone, a motion you probably would not have noticed had you not been so blatantly staring.

Again she hesitates, but then admits, "In my country, we dream what the Inspired wishes, as you saw. They protect us from evil spirits that can take over a dream; to do otherwise is dangerous, unnatural. But I soon learned that…I've realized that this is how everyone's nights are, and that it is normal.

"When I am like this," she continues, gesturing to herself, "I can resist dreaming, should I choose to. It was a bit difficult after I lost that journal, but I still can. But as Harper, when I am with you all - I do dream more and now that I know it is normal…it is harder to resist."

You tilt your head, thinking about how seeing her dream in Dal Quor was how you knew she was alive after the mutiny. "Was it a comfort then? The crystal?"

Aubrey glances at you with a look you can't completely read, but it is pleasant. "I suppose. I find many things a comfort as Harper these days."

You grin. "It must have been buckwild for you when you first had a nightmare."

She gives a bark of a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Don't remind me. Apparently even toddlers dream and I certainly handled it like one, I imagine."

"Tell me about it?"

She rests her chin in her palm. "Like hell."

You burst out laughing. "Fair enough. So tell me this then. If you can choose to resist dreaming as Aubrey, but Harper can't - or doesn't, or however…who do you sleep as?"

It is very rare that you can take her by surprise but you see the question jolt her, her eyebrows raising, body straightening, hands dropping from her chin. Her eyes stare ahead at nothing before falling to her hands against the banister, brow furrowed in thought. You get the feeling she wants to shift.

"I - "

The question sounded innocent on the surface but you realize the full implications of what you have just asked her to admit. Does she duck her head, pretend her doubts are fantasy, rely on what she knows as Aubrey and resists? Or does she embrace the possibility of what Harper has taught her and allows herself to dream?

Is that something you could ask her to say out loud?

Aubrey does eventually open her mouth to say something but you interrupt her.

"- I also gotta know," you say, leaning over dramatically, practically pressed against her shoulder, "d'you still sleep naked? I think that's a better question, actually."

Again you see the surprise clear on her face before her cheeks turn a touch pink and she snaps an indignant, "For Khyber’s sake, Montgomery."

But her lips turn up just enough, especially as you grin wickedly at her. She pushes your face away. "I'm never living that down am I? You will give me no peace, will you?"

Her fingers pressed against your cheek, you smirk at her. "Maybe if you'd admit it was funny as hell, I'd be inclined to forget it eventually."

Aubrey gives you - not a smile, but she certainly isn't frowning or scolding you. "In your dreams, as they say."

She straightens, pulling her hand away. "Now, if you are finished humbling me, I think I'll get some sleep. And you should as well, yes? You have a Gala to prepare for soon, do you not?"

You beam - how could you forget? "I get the hint. G'night, darlin'. Don't be late for firearms trainin' tomorrow."

"When am I ever?" She leaves you with, before nodding her good night to you and turning away.

Her hair is turning brown when you call out to her. "Hey -?"

She pivots, looking back at you and you see her face is still Aubrey's - she looks pretty damn good with dark hair.

"So - 'man of my dreams' - phrases like that don't mean much where you're from, huh?"

"No," she says simply. "But I can be taught, I'm finding."

With a shift in her stance, your flask sails towards your head with a speed and precision that takes you by surprise; by some miracle, you catch the damn thing an inch before your face.

"As can you. Good night, Sheriff."

You watch her shift to Harper, who gives you a final smile. You give her an admittedly dopey one in return, and as she walks away you think perhaps that was your answer.

You picture her with blonde hair; pretty damn good too.

hey look if you don't include obvious foreshadowing is it really a prologue?

Thank you for reading this preview for pure gold! I'm really excited about this one. And I'm just going to apologize now for how very mushy this fic will be, but if you've been following me all this time I have a feeling that will not be a surprise

I'm most excited for the chapter leading up to their date, which features a sort of cat and mouse game between them in a casino that was just as fun to draft as it was to play (watching the other players get actively invested in helping me was a delight I can't express) with a payoff that I still cherish & feel thankful for to this day - and it wasn't even the kiss! I really hope I do it justice

#dnd #dnd fics #dungeons and dragons #dragonborn #changeling #montbrey #i have to physically restrain myself from posting all the good parts but its so hard!!!

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