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#every shot of lucy is gold
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Alexia Khadime and Lucy St. Louis in Wicked on the West End. 📸 Matt Crockett and Mark Senior for WhatsOnStage.
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13uswntimagines · 3 months
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Spiral (Alessia Russo X MMA!R)
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Request: Could you maybe do something where less isn’t around to help r through something and r is spiraling more and more while needing someone to bring her back. One of Alessia's teammates has to kind of shout at r and tell her to kneel or something for her to be grounded featuring Mary (and Lucy slightly)
Part of The come Down universe
Warming: D/s elements. Blood and violence (mentioned but nothing graphic- R punches a wall several times).
It was easy for people to believe that you had an easy life, filled with nothing more than champagne problems and affluenza. 
All they saw were the press conferences and interviews after fights where you were riding high on your success. They didn’t see the weeks where you trained upwards of 18 hours a day and ate so strictly that even your water content was measured. 
They didn’t see how difficult it was to balance your career and Alessia’s, and the weeks you sometimes went apart. 
They didn’t see the nagging injuries that followed you like old ghosts. 
And they thought the 1% of your life they saw was enough context for them to make assumptions about the rest of your life, including your relationship with your girlfriend. 
You had never been big on social media, but that didn’t mean you were entirely shielded from it. 
Especially not when the date for your title fight against Justin Gathje was announced. 
Dana wanted you to hype the fight, to make a comment about how wild Justin was in the cage, and how your far more technical style would be a good match. 
And you thought the spare moments you had sitting in Alessia’s national team cubby while she did her final lap around Wembley for the fans was the perfect moment. 
But as you flicked through your Twitter app, you, realized very quickly that it was a terrible idea. 
Justin had already commented on the fight and accompanied his post with pictures of you in the stands a Wembley dressed in your girlfriend's jersey and one of him sweating in the gym. 
I think a championship contender should at least be putting in the work instead of fucking off with a bitch who deserves better. #gonnasilencethegolddigger
You knew that it was a stupid post. It made no sense because the fight was 20 weeks away, and starting training camp now, three days post-fight, would only lead to burnout and injuries. 
You knew that it was completely untrue considering you had met Alessia at UNC where you had a nice wrestling scholarship and she had a soccer one. There had been no gold to dig. 
But that didn’t stop the general public from hopping on the hate train. 
There were thousands of replies, and mentions and posts clogging your feed about how undeserving you were. 
About how awful of a fighter you were. 
About how Alessia deserved someone who could support her. 
But it wasn’t the comments from the general public that bothered you. 
It was the ones from her former teammates that dug into your brain and stuck. 
Her own family didn’t want her so much they shipped her off to America, so it’s sad she’s dragged a stand-up baller like Lessie into her mess. She didn’t deserve her state championship either. #alwaysridingcoattails.
Her own family didn’t want her
Dragged Lessie into her mess
The words burned into your mind, so you saw them every time you closed your eyes, getting more and more bold each time the number of interactions went up. 
1000
15,000
300,000
2,000,000
You launched your phone across the room, uncaring how it smashed into a million pieces on the stone like it would smash the image on the screen. 
Like it would shatter the tweet and the shots coming from people who had never met you. 
Like it would change how right they were. 
You breathed in deeply, trying to quell the growing ache in your chest and soothe the feelings bubbling in your stomach. 
Alessia’s scent surrounded you, filling your lungs and coating all of your senses. It was normally like a balm on an open wound or ice for a burn, the remedy to your anxiety and a promise that she was there for you. 
That she would always be there. 
That promise was part of the reason your relationship took the dynamic it did. 
Except this time, her scent didn’t loosen the knot in your chest. 
It just reminded you how much you took from her. How much better off she would have been if you had never run into her at UNC. 
You shoved yourself out of Alessia’s locker, you didn’t deserve to sit in it and paced the small room. 
The walls felt like they were getting closer together, and the air felt too heavy. 
You couldn’t breathe.
You needed release. 
You paused at the far end of the room, staring at the white concrete. 
Your fist hit the cold concrete before you even thought about it, and you relished in the pressure of the hard surface on your exposed knuckles. It was more than when you hit pads, more than when you hit someone else. 
It was perfect. 
You did it again. 
You weren’t enough. You hadn’t been for your parents. You wouldn’t be enough for Alessia either. 
Your fist hit the wall again. 
That’s what everyone had been saying for months. That’s what your father told you when you tried to make amends. 
You could see how right they were. 
Stupid worthless 
You hit the wall again. 
How much better off they would be without you. 
“Y/n?”
You didn’t even blink at Ella’s voice. 
You weren’t good enough. How could you ever be?
You had been birthed by two drug addicts more interested in their own highs than in raising a child. Your neighborhood MMA gym was the only place you had ever found food and safety. How could you ever be enough for Alessia who had been raised by loving parents? Who didn’t have to scrape and claw for food scraps? 
Who didn’t crave the freedom you found in total violence. In the destruction of a human. 
In the destruction of herself. 
“Y/n stop,” 
Hands gripped your shoulder, trying to prevent your arm from moving as you launched it again at the slightly pink wall. 
It didn’t work. 
Your hand slammed into the wall again. 
It wasn’t enough. It didn’t hurt enough to ease the volcano in your chest. 
You needed more. 
“Y/n please,” 
Ella’s voice sounded very close to your ear and stinger arms wrapped around your stomach, trying to force you away.
A guttural sound left your lips as the arms were finally able to pull you away, and Lucy stepped between you and your only solace. 
You needed it. 
“Calm down,” Mary hissed, her arms tugging you again. 
You were too out of it to wonder when she had gotten there. 
“Go get Alessia,” Lucy said, looking over your shoulder towards who you assumed was Ella. “Now,” 
You fought against the arms restraining you. 
Keeping you from the only thing that would make the ripping feeling in your brain go quiet. 
The door slammed shut and you were forced back another step by strong arms. 
“Y/n you need to relax, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Lucy held her hands up as she took a step towards you like you were a wild animal. 
And you supposed you were. 
Wild and out of control. Spiraling into oblivion. 
Lucy Met Mary’s eyes when you fought harder in the keeper's hold, your eyes wildly flickering as your limbs flailed. 
This was well out of their ability to fix. 
“We have to do it,” Lucy said, and Mary instantly knew what she meant. 
Mary nodded once. 
She knew you better than Lucy did, so she knew it had to be her if they wanted it to work. 
It was the only thing she could think of to help you. 
The thing that Alessia would do for you 
They had only seen it happen once. 
It was the only time the keeper had seen your dynamic's heavier side. The only time Alessia looked truly dominant, and you looked submissive. 
Mary squared her shoulders, drawing up to her full height, picturing in her mind the way Alessia had touched you and the tone that she had used. Soft, but dripping in authority that had shocked Mary. 
She tried to remember the words your girlfriend had used, the way her fingers pressed perfectly into your skin to make you melt. 
She pulled away from you slightly, drawing her hand from your stomach to land heavily on the space where your shoulder met your neck. 
“Y/n,” She said mimicking the sheer dominance that Alessia’s voice held that night. “I think that’s enough darling. Kneel for me,” 
You froze. 
A shiver ran the full length of your spine at the familiar words, and your shoulders rolled like a physical weight had been added to them. 
You blinked as the order filtered through the fog in your brain, registering that though it was familiar, the voice that had given it was not. 
Her arm loosened around your middle as all of the fight left you, but she kept the grounding hand on your neck. 
You leaned into it, breathing in through your nose and very slowly releasing it through your clenched teeth. 
You sagged with each exhale, sinking very slowly until you were kneeling at Mary’s feet. 
Your head bowed, and you rested your hands palm up on your knees as another rattling breath left you, pressing back into the hand still on your neck like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away into oblivion.
Mary stood frozen, staring at you as you fixed your posture (Alessia hated it when you slouched) and all of the tension, her eyes darting up to meet Lucy’s. 
She hadn’t been sure that it would work. That you would listen to it because she wasn’t Alessia. But now that it had, she wasn’t sure what to do. 
She didn’t know what came next, or how to navigate it without crossing your boundaries. 
“Good job Y/n,” Lucy said, keeping her voice as soft as Mary’s. “We’re just going to stay here and calm down, alright?”
You let out another shuddering breath, more ripples quaking down your spine, and Mary very gently ran her thumb in circles at the back of your neck, hoping it would help to keep you settled. 
She knew it was the touch Alessia always took when you were anxious or nervous, but she was also very much aware that she was not Alessia. 
“And then we’ll get one of the trainers to look at your hand after Lessie gets here,” The defender continued, her eyes trained on where your jeans were slowly turning red with the blood from your hand. 
“But for now, we’re going to just stay right here,” Mary repeated, letting her thumb graze the nape of your neck. 
*******
“Less,” Ella’s voice cut through the sounds of the fans calling for Alessia’s attention, the panic in it drawing the strikers eyes before the midfielder skidded to a stop beside her. 
“What’s happened?” Alessia asked, passing the shirt she was signing back to the young girl who had handed it to her. 
“Y/n,” Ella panted, her eyes wide, afraid despite the cameras pointed their way. “I’ve never seen her like that,” 
Alessia frowned, turning away from the fans and wrapping an arm around Ella’s shoulder to give them some semblance of privacy. 
“Seen her like what?” She asked, her tone low with something… darker lingering under the surface. 
Ella shook her head, unable to describe it with words. “I need you to come, quickly,” 
“Ok,” Alessia agreed, following after the midfielder with little question. 
She knew that whatever had happened had to be bad to cause that look. To have Ella say it in front of the fans. 
Ella sprinted back towards the tunnel with Alessia on her heels, weaving between equipment people, and players until they reached the locker room. 
Leah stood outside the door, directing players to the other showers. 
Alessia’s frown deepened. “What’s going on?”
“We thought a smaller audience would be better,” Leah murmured, stepping aside for them. “Looks pretty brutal mate,” 
Ella patted her back and she stepped towards the door, steeling herself for whatever was inside as she pressed it open. 
Her breath caught in her chest as she took in the scene in front of her. 
It looked like something out of a slasher film. 
Red covered one of the white stone walls, dripping onto the gray floor in dime-sized circles to where you were sitting. No kneeling between Mary and Lucy, a dark patch forming from where it had soaked into your jeans. 
Her jaw clenched at your position. 
It was hard for people to understand but kneeling was something… intimate between the two of you. It was a show of the trust that you had for her to take care of you. A way to reinforce the power dynamic in your relationship. 
It had taken you a long time to feel comfortable enough to let yourself be vulnerable enough to kneel for her, and she treasured how willing you were now. How you seemed to… crave the position. 
For someone else to put you there didn’t sit well with her. 
Neither did the way Mary’s hand was holding the back of your neck. 
“What happened?” She grit out, her eyes flitting between your form and the two women on your either side. 
“we’re not entirely sure. We just caught the tail end,” Mary murmured, her thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. 
Your eyes were closed, but Alessia could see the tension in your posture. She could see how on edge you were. 
How close you were to subspace. 
She snooker her head. “And you thought that this was the solution?”
She wanted to scream at her friends. To give them a lecture about consent and safety and trust (even though you wouldn’t be kneeling for them if you didn’t trust them). 
They didn’t know your boundaries. This hadn’t been discussed. What if it went wrong and they didn’t recognize the signs of you passing the point of consent? 
She knew you often leaned into the dynamic you shared to calm down. To let go, but she knew your limits. She knew your safe word. 
She knew all of the signs to look for, because you craved pain when you felt unstable (a habit that had lingered from your childhood), and you wouldn’t always vocalize your limits. 
She worried how far backward you would slip after this. 
“It was the only way I could think of to get her to calm down. She wasn’t responding to anything else Less,” Mary explained, her voice very soft and gentle. “I tried to do exactly what you do,” 
“We also stayed away from honorifics,” Lucy added. “We knew we were overstepping a bit as it was and didn’t want to push further than we had to,” 
Alessia wanted to snort that overstepping was an understatement, but she didn’t. 
That wouldn’t help you. 
Avoiding honorifics had been a very thoughtful touch. 
That would have sent you careening into sub-space, and she doubted either of them could have handled that. 
“Alright,” She said, taking a deep breath. 
She would need to talk to them later, but right now, her priority was you. 
And getting to the bottom of what happened. 
Of what changed in the 10 minutes you had been left alone. 
She settled herself on the bench, placing her sweatshirt on the ground near her feet to act as a cushion for you, and taking a deep calming breath before she let her eyes fall on you. 
“Babygirl,” Her voice came out stern, but not angry, and for the first time, you raised your gaze from the floor to meet hers. “Come here,” 
She gestured towards the spot at her feet, and without hesitating, you carefully pulled out of Mary’s grasp and crawled to her. 
Her fingers weaved through your hair, and she guided you to rest your cheek on her thigh once you settled on the sweatshirt. “What’s going on sweet one? Talk to me,”
You nuzzled into the soft skin of her leg as her nails dragged against your scalp, trying to remember how to speak. 
How to form words that would accurately describe the tearing feeling in your chest. 
“Not enough,”
The words were horse as they left your lips, heavy and wet like they had been pulled from the depths of your soul. 
Alessia hummed, her nails digging more deeply into your hair. “What’s not enough?”
Your breath rattled in your chest, shaking through you to your core. 
At the depths of it, you were not enough. 
You would never be enough. 
“I’ll go get a doc,” Lucy murmured before you heard the sound of the door. 
“What is not enough,” Alessia asked again, more insistent. 
“I’m not enough, Miss,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Alessia tutted. “We both know that’s not true,” 
You groaned. 
It was true. The whole internet believed it. 
“It is,” You insisted, pulling away from her warm hold to meet her eyes. “Everyone believes it,” 
“Who is everyone?” Alessia pressed, staying calm and even. Being your stability. 
“I think this has something to do with it,” Mary said, and your eyes snapped to her, where she was holding your demolished phone, the tweets still lighting up the screen. 
You had forgotten she was still here. 
“What is it?” 
Alessia held her free hand out for it, using the other to settle you back against her thigh. 
“Bullshit,” Mary answered, passing the phone to your dominant, moving slowly around you, like she was afraid to spook you. 
Alessia hummed, flicking through the images on your cracked screen. 
The room was silent as she read the words that had set you off, and you let your eyes slide closed, enjoying her closeness. 
Enjoying the ability to let go, and trust that she would take care of it. 
You ignored the sound of the door opening again, and feet approaching you and Alessia. You didn’t care if people saw you. You knew that she would defend you if you needed it. 
“Sweet girl,” Alessia said, fingers tightening in your hair, and you opened your eyes to meet hers over the phone. “Let them look at your hands,” 
Your eyes flickered towards the medics, kneeling in front of you, Lucy standing protectively behind them with Mary. 
You hummed, slowly lifting your dominant hand and holding it out towards the medic. 
He took it gently between his own and began to examine it with a frown. 
“I think she needs x-rays,” He said, looking over you towards Alessia who was still scrolling through your feed. “And I can wrap it after that,” 
“Alright,” She said, putting your phone down. “We’ll meet you in the training room in just a moment. Can you three give us a second?”
The medic nodded, retreating with Mary and Lucy.
“Take your time,” Mary paused in the doorway. “Me and Luce will get cleaned up and meet you,” 
Alessia let out a sound of agreement. 
She waited for the door to close before she very gently pulled you up from your knees and into her lap. 
You rested your cheek on her chest, tucking your nose into her still-sweaty jersey. 
This time her scent didn’t set you on edge. It joined the feeling of her warm arms wrapped around you and her chin on your head, making you feel safe and warm and cared for, even when you didn’t think you deserved it. 
“You know all of those tweets are bullshit right?” She asked after your breathing had evened out. “They’re just trying to get under your skin,”
You made a low noise, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. 
“You are deserving because you are amazing. You are an incredible fighter, and a good human despite the shit hand you were dealt,” She continued. “I love you, and I will always be here for you. Whether you are the world champion, or we’re eating spam and crackers on my bedroom floor,” 
Your eyes slid closed and you buried your face in her chest, your lips lifting just a bit at the mention of your favorite snack from college. 
From when you were too broke to afford dinner on the weekends. 
It didn’t entirely fix the crumbling feeling that accompanied each beat of your heart, but her words were like a tether holding you to reality. 
She had loved you before you were a UFC star and she was England's Star Girl, and she would love you after. 
That was all that mattered. 
She squeezed you tightly and kissed your head. “Let’s go get your hands fixed and then we can go back to the hotel and watch Love Island before bed, alright?”
You hummed again. 
You knew a talk about your coping mechanism, about the wall you had destroyed, would also be included after you had come down. 
But you didn’t mind. 
You and Alessia would get through it. Together. 
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So basically the entire character list of The ballad of songbirds and snakes is the exes from hell
1. Coriolanus Snow
-Mansplain Manipulate Manwhore
-Great hair and fashion sense
-Love bombs you
-Old money
-His (grand)mom hates you because her son can do no wrong so clearly you're the problem
-His favourite hobby is emotional and mental abuse
-Snitches on you when cheating at family board game night (he's deflecting that he's also cheating)
-Emotionally stagnant (narcissist with mommy and daddy issues)
2. Sejanus Plinth
-Loves you to bits, so does his mom (your waistline will never truly recover)
-Indecisive about where to grab dinner always
-New money and it shows in his insecurity
-Supportive asf
-Breaks up with you because he can't be with a non pacifist/vegan
-Daddy issues
-Condemns Shein hauls
-Identity crisis every other week, you'll have to talk him out of a buzz cut, jumping off the ledge or giving all his money to scammers (if you collect all the stamps you'll get a financial compensation from his dad on the wedding day)
3. Lucy Gray Baird
-Her Ex is a dick, will stalk and harass you
-Her family is a bunch of hippies, will make you eat with your hands, on the floor, while singing Kumbaya
-Sings you to sleep, braids your hair
-Almost poisoned you thrice cause she doesn't understand you shouldn't mix cleaning products together
-Old soul
-Thrifts, recycles
-Puts salt in your coffee after arguments
-Ghosts you after your make or break argument
4. Casca Highbottom
-Never asks about your day, his is always worse
-Drug addict in denial
-Weird beef with his old classmate's son (he never lets anything go)
-Dislikes people, which would be fine if you weren't included
-Always on some sardonic shit, probably a business major with a psych minor
-His pills take all the space in the shared bathroom, your makeup will be shoved in the far lowest drawer next to the TP
-His ancient ass coworkers hit on you at symposiums, he's too high off bathroom cocaine to stop them (or gets off, either way you're tired and want home)
5. Dr Gaul
-Devil Incarnate
-You somehow rizzed her up at a function and she's been showing up at your house ever since (you don't how but she has both the address and a key)
-Petting zoo type of owner
-She always smells like chemicals and latex
-Asks you unhinged "Would you rather" questions and refuses to drop it (makes your Would you love me if i were a worm ex cute by a long shot)
-Will perform experiments on you without your knowledge or consent
-Insists her pet snake shares your bed
-Freak in the streets and the sheets (the restraining order won't even go through cause she's in cahoots with half the Government)
-Definitely wanted for war crimes somewhere, the G in Geneva convention stands for Gaul
6. Lucky Flickerman
-A clown.
-His hair and skincare products take over the entire bathroom/vanity
-He can't dress to save his life, but he sure thinks he can
-Golden retriever boyfriend energy
-Steals your concealer, refuses to admit it
-Would you like to see a magic trick? What do you mean this is a serious fight, there's a quarter up your nose
-Impulsive buyer, has 13 snow globes of panem because they were on sale and looked shiny
-Even his pet thinks he's a dumbass
-Cries during movies
7. Tigris
-Yes she do the cooking, yes she do the cleaning
-Insecure about her appearance (critical, will cost you)
-Her family is a bunch of snobs
-Anything she touches turns into gold
-Her cousin can do no wrong, you have to accommodate everything for him or she'll die (and he never even visits, "just in case")
-Her grandmother is a package deal, I hope you like boomer propaganda and info commercials early on Sunday morning
-Empathetic asf
-Puts everyone's needs above hers (and unfortunately yours)
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bunnylove1 · 3 months
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.*•Lucifer HC!!•*.
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.*•lucifer HC!•*.
~.•Lucifer x reader 
~.•warnings!: sickness, sex/just smut, fluff!, nsfw and sfw HCS Are mixed together 
 ~.•Enjoy! Darlings 
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•he likes when you talk, just because he loves your voice “no baby keep talking, your okay don’t stop”
•Same with loving your voice, he will make you not hide your face during sex or muffle you voice because he loves your whimpers and moans makes him cum just hearing them 
•double dates with Charlie and vaggie he loves getting time in with his daughter but also loves seeing you interact with Charlie and loves hearing vaggie call him father in law 
•hates seeing you cry makes him overthink “shh it’s okay Angel, what’s wrong speak to me”
•he loves you hips and eyes he finds them the most beautiful thing ever and that they fit you so well
•loves when you call him ‘luci’ and ‘darling’
•he’ll hide away from whoever he’s talking to if you call him ‘apple muncher’ in public 
•Luci loves when you put any type of his clothing on, but mostly prefers you to wear his hat
•he’s scared of losing you, so he always keeps you close and if not he’ll frequently check up on you
•if your taller than him and he wants a kiss, he’ll pull you down and give you a smooch 
•I love the idea of him being a jealous guy, so he always has a hand around your waist or his hand holding yours 
•he most definitely loves tall women, have you seen his ex wife
•hates when Alastor is anywhere near you, will literally growl at the dude 
•I can see him treating you like a little kid some times saying “no that’s to sharp put it down princess” or “don’t walk so fast hold my hand”
•he’s a switch but leans more towards dom
•man loves eating pussy, not for your own pleasure (yes and no) but for his he’s a pussy muncher 
•he’s definitely a night owl and a morning person, he’ll be up all night working on something but also be up at the ass crack of dawn making your breakfast in bed 
•DOESN’T let you lift a FINGER he’ll do everything, making sure his princess isn’t stressing out about anything 
•he knows how to comfort you way different from alastors comfort, he’ll put your head in his chest and whisper sweet nothings to you as he rubs your back and plays with your hair “it’s okay my baby I’m here”, “don’t make yourself sick okay princess
•when your sick he’ll make sure your never up from bed, he’ll bring you anything soup a drink another pillow or more blankets “need anything darling”…”no don’t get up lay back down princess let me do it my sick baby”
•his love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation 
•makes you a duck key chain that looks like him, he has one that looks like you
•he definitely has a daddy kink can’t see him not having one 
•doesn’t like hurting you during sex, he likes slapping and punishments but not hard core ones 
•his wings are sensitive so touching them leads to big consequences 
•BIGGEST ROMANTIC he’ll buy you flowers every time he sees the ones he already gave you dying, new stuffed animals that he bought while out, long dinner dates that lead to just talking all night, dancing when you guys can’t sleep, humming you sweet tunes just the biggest sweetheart 
•has your name on his phone as “my princess” 
•calls you “my princess” “baby” “little angel” “mommas” “hot shot” “little lady”
•he loves seeing you an Charlie getting along makes him feel proud 
•hates when your too far from him 
“darlings get over her please” or “to far baby” even “little lady right here”
•loves the color white and gold on you
•thinks your a goddess and will drop to his knees if you commanded 
•he prefers to give you pleasure more than you give him but if you offer he’ll take it
•sex is a solid 99/100, loves pleasing you but that one point is for doing his work which only leads to having more sex
•morning sex’s and night sex’s (when your asleep shit) loves the feeling of you being groggy in both morning and night gives him so much control 
•loves when you fall asleep on him, he’ll take photos of it
•he loves you sitting on his lap while he does work or is talking to other of the question it he’ll say—— “what is your eye problem, haven’t seen a couple before”
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.*• guys this took me a whole ass day to do please enjoy 
(Tagged my favourite luci lover)
@mylunadies
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queenlucythevaliant · 10 months
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There was a park a few blocks away from Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta’s home in Cambridge where Lucy would often wander that summer when she wanted to be alone. She’d tuck a book under her arm and call to Edmund, “I’m going!” and then she’d go find herself a tree.
Branches waved gently, like fingers against the sky. Lucy would settle herself on her favorite bench and try to read, but sometimes she just found herself gazing at those branches. When she was sure the park was empty, she’d succumb to her most fanciful impulse to get up and walk among them. Wake, she’d think, and imagine the faces that each kind of tree would have.
Lucy knew it was fancy, but it wasn’t delusion. She could tell the difference. After all, it had been truth that first set her on the path to Narnia, dismissed as both delusion and fancy.
At school she read Shakespeare and Charles Dickens. She painted Prospero with Coriakin’s coloring, high wiry brows and sun-wrinkled skin. She gave him long fingers, an imaginative touch—Coriakin’s had been rather short and stubby—and heard the poetry in her own voice. She read aloud to her friends sometimes, just picked up wherever she was and read while Marjorie and Josephine curled up under blankets with mugs of hot tea.
“It sounds better when you read it,” Marjorie mused. “Even if it is musty old Shakespeare.”
There were glimpses of gold in puddles on the pavement, and Lucy found herself glancing up as though she expected to find Aslan in her periphery. He wasn't there, of course, but the sunset shot light into the street and made it shine. Aslan wasn't in the chapel at school either, but the bells pealed golden every hour. He wasn't stalking beneath her dormitory window, but there were fresh footprints in the snow.
Lucy was sure that if only she could remember the spell for making hidden things visible, she'd find her whole world cloaked in tawny, velvet gold. Aslan in the kitchen, Aslan in the sky at dawn. Aslan in the faces of her friends, who laughed when Lucy said fanciful things but who listened rapt when she read aloud.
"I swear, you and your read-alouds, Lucy Pevensie," grinned Josephine as the cover fell shut. "Why, it's almost as though you believe in all the stories! You're not theatrical, just credulous." So Lucy leaned back and taught her friend how to tell if someone was lying, or delusional, or if they had a marvelous truth to tell.
On lonely weekends, Lucy begged Professor Digory to take her with him to Oxford to see the great stone halls and the towering cathedral and she loved the way the angels’ sloping wings looked against the sky. Wake, she whispered as she passed by graves and monuments to those long dead, and imagined that she might see Aslan pacing behind them, ready to breathe them back to life.
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sisterofficerlucychen · 2 months
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me looking at the clock like 👀  because will i get this valentine's day one shot posted that is literally a year late up in time? we shall see alksdjfsdla lmao.
here's a little sneak peek 😉 
“What did Noah mean when he said that Bradford?” “Hmm?” Lucy stirs against his chest. Dark eyes flutter lazily as a soft sigh leaves her lips still half asleep as Tim draws circles mindlessly against her bare shoulder blade.  His touch almost rhythmic, just enough to threaten to lull her back to sleep if he doesn’t stop soon. She’s in that perfect state of blissed, completely sated but worn out enough to easily need a few more hours of sleep and she blames him completely for it. It was hands down the best Valentine’s Day ever. The gold plated necklace, a fancy (and romantic) dinner, the continuation of the mind blowing sex. Lucy had been left without words when he warned she’d “need that fuel for later” but she underestimated how much he meant it.  Judging by how fragments of light sneak in through the curtains she’d guess that she’s gotten some sleep. Though not quite enough as a sleepy yawn leaves her lips and she reluctantly opens her eyes. What started in the backseat of his truck continued to her bedroom which then carried on to the shower. She mistakingly thought that being pinned against the cold shower tiles as Tim’s hands explored every inch of her body while hot water fell on them was the cap to the perfect night but then his lips trailed up her thigh and she quickly realized he wasn’t quite done yet once they made their way back to bed.  A vague memory exists in her mind of it being a little past three by the time she came down from the euphoric high. Her body as exhausted as her mind as Tim rolled off of her, limbs still intertwined as they both settled in each others arms and drifted off to sleep. While a few hours ago, it feels like only minutes as if she’d just shut her eyes to try and get some rest. Sleep that has clearly come to an end as he asks again and she shifts, propping herself up on an elbow as she looks at him, gazed narrowed as she debates the question while chewing on her bottom lip. “Nothing,” she settles in the most nonchalant answer she can give. “Nothing?” he repeats with a sly smirk knowing better, “you’re lying.”
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Episode 4
Royal wedding montage. No, Samantha Cohen didn’t tell you some weird Rainbow Fish story. That did not happen. 
Voices of journalists talking about how amazing she is and how she is going to change the family for the better. I guess the royal coverage is good…as long as they say nice things.
“I don’t know how I was so calm.” Drugs, Meghan. It was drugs. 
Wedding crowds montage. Same song as Four Weddings and a Funeral because these two think they are living a rom com. Celebrities attending the wedding. International coverage. Amal and George and the Beckhams. Will and Harry. No one mentions that it was Wallis Simpson’s car. She didn’t talk about the “real” wedding three days before.
There was no expectation, Harry. You were supposed to get married in Craithie Kirk because you were a man of the people. That was the first story that came out.
CWK talks about the dress. Doesn’t mention the Commonwealth flowers in the veil. No mention of the tiara drama or the egg debacle either. 
Bold choice going with the vampire bride shot. Yes, KC was important to you Meg. He single-handedly saved your train wreck wedding. Lots of discussion about the Kingdom Choir and no one mentions that they perform at all the Commonwealth events. 
They sold their wedding pics, just like Peter. They are soooooo tacky. They laugh about cutting the cake with the sword. That wedding cake was truly symbolic, a priceless collection of gold pedestals propping up a mediocre confection. Her mom ditched her for the celebs. That is hilarious. Of course she did.
Interesting that Meghan hasn’t looked happy once during this whole documentary, but she sounds truly joyful when talking about the wedding. That was the highlight of her life. 
Kate’s face in the wedding pictures is everything. Says it all. I wonder if Meghan sold a Kate pic. I haven’t seen one yet. Never mind, I just rewound and, sure enough, she did.
Interesting how they are appropriating narratives—she’s a hugger, writing in a new character, modernizing—that were created by the tabloids. Every single word this Archewell guy is saying was written by Camilla Tominey, Andrew Morton, or Valentine Low. He is parroting the royal experts Harry was mocking last episode.
Train trip with the Queen. Why does she wear a necklace in some shots, but not in others? They are splicing different interviews and using filters to make it look line one interview. This section was edited into incomprehensibility after the death of the Queen.
Grenfell. LOL, she makes it sound like she was in the UK when the tragedy happened. Wild. I like the Grenfell ladies but why are they spending time on this and not covering her current charities? 
Bitching about Nott Cott, which actually looks super cute. “I don’t know who lived here before.” Your brother, the heir, lived there before, Harry. You know that.
 That’s how she decorated it? Pottery Barn circa 2001? No wonder her domestic goddess career never took off. All of this just to upgrade from 2000s Pottery Barn to 2014 Restoration Hardware? But….they weren’t living in Nott Cott. They rented a Cotswolds farmhouse before the wedding and lived there until moving to Frog Cott. That’s why all these pics are of them getting dressed. They were just using Nott Cott to prep for London events. 
Wait, did they just bitch about their multi-million cottage in Kensington Palace being too small right after the Grenfell segment? Yes, they did. Wow.
Pregnancy. She sold her sonogram pictures. Australia. You weren’t showing already, Megs. There was no bump. Cue shots with no bump. This is epic gaslight. We can clearly see she’s not showing, but they flat out say she was.
Lol, she wasn’t that popular. Her polls peaked at 41% net approval after the wedding and dropped like rocks. And Australia wasn’t the turning point, Lucy. It was her dad talking to the media all summer long. Isn’t Lucy Harper a pr person? Shouldn’t she be able to interpret polling data? Headlines about how popular she was…including the 2018 Time’s Most Influential List, which is hilarious because they were sandwiched between Donald Trump and Saudi Arabia’s MSB. Yeah, the royals were really jealous of that. OMG, they show Meghan’s covers and its…Woman’s Day and Hello! Canada. One of the headlines is “Freddy Mercury’s Secret Wife.” 
Wait, now he’s happy because the media put Meghan on the front pages? They have a very strange relationship with the media. Hold on, he thinks Meghan outshone The Queen? Seriously?????? He thinks the frumpy brocade dress outshone The Queen? I remember calling that a hater cover because Meghan looked so terrible in it. No one thought she overshadowed The Queen. Literally, no one. 
Archewell guy speaking again.  He seems to think that the royals, who were desperately trying to cover up the epic disaster of the Australian tour—which included insulting the Australian government house, exaggerating an incident with a faulty heater, assaulting an embassy employee, walking out of a United Nations event, making a staffer cry in front of a reporter, wearing jewelry gifted by an allegedly murderous despot, and trolling her father by saying he hadn’t paid for her college—were jealous of how “well” she did in Australia. This is delusional.
Lol, now they are bitching about avocados. It wasn’t the avocados. It was her dad. They just jumped from blaming the royals for the bad press to blaming racism. First The Queen was jealous, then the staff were scared, then the media was racist and giving Kate better press…I’m getting whiplash. Pick a villain, guys! I can’t follow this argument at all. The Queen was upset because Meghan stole her Woman’s Day cover with Freddie Mercury’s secret wife so she leaked stories about Meghan’s favorite perishable fruit and the evil tabloids turned that into the racialized avocados of death? Whaaaaaat????? I love how Harry throws up his hands and says “well, if you can’t see it, I can’t do anything for you.” See what? None of this makes any sense.
BTW, they used the “Hurricane Meghan” headlines even though Meghan told Oprah she hadn’t heard about that. The Oprah interview also implied she never knew about the bump-holding headlines and they used those in the documentary too. Oprah read them to her and Meghan acted as if it was the first time she was hearing about it. The only headlines Meghan, according to their statements during the Oprah interview, was supposedly aware of were the “made Kate cry story” and the avocado story, and she laughed at the avocado story.
Walkabout in Liverpool. A member of the public scolded her about her dad. See? The problem was her dad. Harry and Meghan, however, blame family lies and the tabloids. Her dad was giving interviews right and left, and people were watching him in real time, complaining about how he was treated.  No one in the palace was leaking this. No one was lying about it. He was out there, giving interviews to anyone with a couple of bucks because he wanted to explain that he did actually pay for her school. Her sister was doing the same thing.
And here’s the Diana 2.0 stuff. Wait, she was going to kill herself…over the racialized avocados of death? I paused to re-read the transcript of the Oprah interview because I remembered the suicidal ideation story as being a lot more sympathetic than “the Kate story and the avocados made me want to end it all.” In that interview, they start with the tabloid stories, but then Oprah asks her whether she felt lonely and she talks about Harry working all the time and being all alone. She talks about not being able to leave the house and see her friends and also about the tours being exhausting and having to smile through it all. She also claims there were talks about Archie not being a prince and not getting security and how that was stressing her out. Then she talks about people being concerned about Archie’s skin color and then she talks about her suicidal ideation. That kind of emotional build-up is what Oprah brings to the table. That’s why she gets the big bucks. Here, they just jump from “our Australian tour was super successful” to “mean tabloid stories about Kate and avocados” to “I just didn’t want to live anymore,” and it’s not as powerful, particularly since the behind-the-scenes pictures they keep showing us are all happy pictures. 
Also, we skipped over the big show of support at Sandringham.  And Doria can also do the “one tear, left eye” trick. It must be genetic.
She wasn’t allowed to get help? Girl, they knew you were nuttier than a fruitcake. They would have sent you to a shrink in a hot minute. And they weren’t afraid about how it would make the institution look. Harry admitted to going to therapy and it went fantastic. James Middleton went to therapy too. They put up pics of Megs looking sad…and they are all from events that happened afterwards.
The households separated because of leaks? Bullying isn’t even going to get mentioned? No, it isn’t, and neither is the big social media campaign KP did to support Meghan.
I’m blown away by the fact that all this drama is about a story about bridesmaids’ dresses. The Oprah Winfrey interview was motivated by this one story about making Kate cry. The Archetypes podcast was about the story about making Kate cry. They made a six-hour Netflix documentary about a story about making Kate cry. There is now an entire subgenre of royal coverage based on Princess Charlotte’s bridesmaid attire. This one story has been living rent-free in Harry and Meghan’s heads since Fall 2018.
Harry keeps talking about trading stories and not playing the game. He totally planted the Rose Hanbury affair story as revenge for the “made Kate cry” story. Absolutely,
Happy Nott Cott Christmas.  She wasn’t allowed to text photos? Lol, you weren’t texting photos bc you were saving them for Netflix.
People Magazine article. I guess these were the friends working with the magazines. Wasn’t their privacy super important? Weren’t they in danger if their identities were revealed? That was the argument that was presented under oath to the court. Now it turns out she was just saving the reveal for the Netflix special. Baby shower. OMG, Amal Clooney making floral arrangements, wtf? Backlash because of course. 
They are gifted Frogmore Cottage. Archie’s birth. Vintage footage about royal births. She had a long-standing relationship with her UK doctor? How? Seriously, how? They couldn’t do the photocell at Portland Hospital? Didn’t Fergie do it at Portland? Twice?
Birth announcement drama. The problem wasn’t that you broke protocol, Meghan. The problem was that CBS got the exclusive and you lied to the press about the birth. They bring in academics to say it was about racism because of course.
Archie. They took a picture of the nanny with the baby in a mud cloth carrier, lol.
South Africa with Archie. They couldn’t do a hospital photocall with the baby, but now they are taking him on tour. Doria just said “it’s not the institution’s baby, it’s her baby,” but they are taking him on an official tour. They can’t be expected to serve their child on a silver platter for literally two minutes, but they can take him on a week-long tour. I had to double-back and check the dates because I felt this wasn’t nearly as jarring and contradictory when it happened, and it wasn’t. The tour was several months after the birth and they had already taken the baby (who was supposedly too young to fly to Balmoral for the summer) to Ibiza. They way they presented it in the documentary, however, sounded ridiculous.
BTW, no coverage of the Vogue magazine, Smartworks capsule collection, the summer vacations at Elton’s house, the private planes, etc…. All of these were roundly criticized (well, not the Smartworks capsule) and yet the only story that matters is the Kate story.
Lol, the Archewell guy just admitted the royals were afraid Meghan would cause an international row during this tour. Not afraid that she would embarrass the royal family with her activism, noooooo. Afraid she would cause an international row.
Tutu. Wasn’t this footage intrusive two episodes ago? Make up your minds, guys! Tom Bradby. Is she trying to spin the interview as an oopsie due to exhaustion? Is she saying Tom tricked her? She really thinks people are stupid. Also, she takes no responsibility for anything, not even the Uber-narcissistic “I trusted too much.” She’s not even capable of that.
{Edited: Apparently Harry is doing another interview with Bradby. Guess he didn’t really trick them then.]
Astroturfed supportive hashtag. Guess her huge investment in Twitter bots paid off. LOL, my kid squints at the screen and says “all the tweets have the same timestamp.” Yes, they do.
Oh, the Diana footage is a bad idea. You can tell she was trying to act like Diana during the Africa interview (so much eyeliner). They really do think she’s Diana though, and they planned their tours (Australia, Africa, big meeting with African leader, big tour with baby) to bolster that impression. It’s interesting that worthy projects (Smartworks capsule collection, Vogue, Morocco girls’ meetings Ireland tour, dog shelter) that would make Meghan look good, but don’t support the Diana narrative are simply not mentioned. The India hygiene project is not featured in the documentary, but the Diana-like pictures in traditional dress are. 
You Don’t Own Me for closing credits. Hahaha. Harley Quinn music. So appropriate. The music in the last three documentaries is better than the music in the first three. 
Husband and group chat both discuss the Diana 2.0 stuff. She really thinks she is Diana and the documentary is trying to present her as Diana. Everyone agrees that she is no Diana. The psychologist thinks she should have worn more eyeliner. The lawyer tells her that eyeliner wasn’t the problem. There isn’t enough eyeliner in the world to turn her into Diana. Everyone thinks the music is good. Much texting about how much the tiny cottage cost. Someone looks it up on Zillow and it’s an insane number. Many “but my palace was sooooo small” jokes. Many comments about a KP cottage, no matter how small, being much classier than a California McMansion. Many comments about the Archewell guy sounding slimy. 
On to the next episode.
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Hi there! Could you recommend a well written fic with a...happier ending? :) Where after a while they make different decisions (especially Hawk) and somehow manage to fix things. Alive. I saw a summary where the author fixes things, but Skippy kind of has the same fate only later and in a different way... and, well... it's ok if it's not all fluff but I would prefer not to cry out my eyes at the end. But if you say it still worth it, I believe you.. :) Thank you!
As you know, happy endings in this fandom (or at least within canon) are hard to come by. But we’ve suffered enough, haven't we? I hope these feel good fics hit the mark and hopefully work towards offsetting the extensive therapy that loving this show undoubtedly requires. Happy reading!
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✨ Be sure to show the authors some love and appreciation with kudos and comments on the fics you enjoyed!
#angst with a happy ending ❤️‍🩹 A Joy, Hard Learned by @partialresonance // partialresonance [E, 12K] Tim and Hawk get snowed in together. Later, Tim comes back from the war a changed man.
The dynamics between Tim and Hawk are on another level, which just adds to the heat on this already scorching hot, emotional smut. That said, it’s only one layer of this fic. The building angst with the happy ending that follows, absolutely stellar! Not to mention, the cozy winter atmosphere. What else do you need?  Grab yourself a nice cup of cocoa and settle in by the fire with this one!
❤️‍🩹 Anywhere With You by @kayleebye // kayleebye [T, 3K] Hawk shows up at Tim's door with news after breaking-up with him several weeks ago. Tim isn't interested in hearing anything from Hawk, but one sentence changes everything. Will Hawk and Tim finally have a chance at happiness?
This one I haven’t read yet, but it’s got a lot of what you’re looking for… true love, angst and a happy ending fix-it all wrapped up in a snug little 3K word package. Give it a shot!
#fluff ❤️‍🩹 A Package of Sunshine by @bluebellsinburbank // ConsumingLove(Bluebellstar) [T, 1K] Hawk and Tim have a day at the beach.
This should be called A Ray of Sunshine, because that’s exactly what it feels like. It’s so refreshing to have these fluffy moments, a snapshot into a happier time between these two. And delightful banter with Marcus and Frankie in tow… We love to see! 
#fix-it, #time travel, #canon divergence ❤️‍🩹 Cheek to Cheek by Iviviendo* [NR, 1K] A special guest arrives unannounced at the Laughlin house on Christmas Day in 1953.
A fluffy little Christmas fix-it, light and cozy. I felt like I was right there at the dinner table, laughing and singing along with the rest of the family. Even Tim’s grandma is pleasant and cheerful, a welcome change from the cranky Grandma Gaffney we see in the book.
❤️‍🩹 Everything, Everything by tinypurpleghost* [E, 4.8K] Hawk wakes up in 1968 and everything is different.
A sprinkle of angst with a heavy dose of heart-warming fluff, along with some wonderfully tender (and super hot) smut. Short and sweet, this time travel fix-it will be the perfect balm to mend your broken heart.
❤️‍🩹 the pawn in every lover's game by hyperfixfic* [G, 8K] Lucy decides to face Hawk after Mr. Laughlin slipped a letter under Hawk’s apartment door instead of ignoring the problems of her marriage. And there are many.
This one is more book-inspired, and Lucy-focused, which is something of a rarity. Love to see it! 
❤️‍🩹 Sands of Time (Turn Backwards) by @brouill3r // brouiller [NR, 7K WIP Ch.3/?] 1987 Hawkins Fuller is full of regrets for the life he's lived, though Tim once told him he regrets nothing. Hawk so wishes he could say the same.
In the still night air of a hotel room, clutching a cracked paperweight to his chest like it's carved of the finest gold, Hawk gets his wish.
Or, a time-travel fix-it fic that nobody asked for.
This has me glued to the edge of my seat. The pacing of the first chapter pulls you right in, adding to the tension in with its punctuated rhythm--absolutely perfect for the mindset of Hawk trying to come to grips with what is happening around him. 
❤️‍🩹 Again, only better by@madsmeetsmisha // madsmeetsmisha [M, 11K WIP Ch. 4/9] Hawk had no idea what was really going on here. All he knew was that he was back in 1954 and a completely distraught Tim was standing outside his door. And he also knew that he certainly wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
*DING DING DING… Haven’t read this yet, but by the summary and tags, this sounds like it might check all (or most) of your boxes… Tags: fix-it, someone dies from AIDS but not Tim, second changes, all the fluff we need to get over this
❤️‍🩹 Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps It’s Real by drabbleswabbles* [NR, 24K Ch. 9/?] And then it happened. The metallic screech of the gate, the shuffle of men stepping out beyond the prison walls. And suddenly there he was. His hair was shorter than he’d ever seen it. And his glasses were different. But it was him. Their eyes met. Tim stared at him in wide-eyed shock before recognition melted his features into a confused outrage.
Basically a fix-it in which Hawk finds himself back in the early 70s.
I haven’t had the chance to dive into this one, but it’s at the top of my list, along with so many other readers who can’t stop singing its praises. I’m sure you’ll love it just as much as they do.
❤️‍🩹 The Twelfth of Never by ghostandwitness* [M, 973 WIP Ch. 1/?] What if Hawk didn’t prevent Tim from passing the security clearance?
A retelling of Hawk and Tim’s story where their affair is continued through Tim’s employment at State, for those of us who want a different ending (but of course, not without a hard time getting there-After all it's Hawk and Tim).
I feel like this one might be flying under the radar, but it deserves all the fanfare. So far, this one is fantastic, and while it’s still currently a WIP, and can’t guarantee it will be exactly what you’re looking for, I can confidently say it will be enjoyed. 
❤️‍🩹 But If You Don’t Dear, Confess by@bluebellsinburbank // ConsumingLove(Bluebellstar) [G, 3K] "Have you ever considered yourself to be in love with another male?"
And that was the question, wasn't it?
Giving gifts, receiving gifts, walking like a gay man - like that could even be quantified; sex and sodomy. Those things were nothing, a mere drop in the ocean compared to that one question.
Had he ever been in love with another man?
For a moment, he almost expected to think of Kenny. That sweet boy who loved beautiful things, who'd followed Hawk into a war none of them had any place being.
But Kenny was the furthest thing from his mind. No, his mind was alive with memories of his Skippy.
Or, Tim Laughlin is a little harder to get out of Hawk's head, and the choice between yes and no isn't as easy to make.
This is part 1 of a series that follows Hawk and Tim as they run away to Italy together, after Hawk fails the polygraph on purpose. Each fic is a standalone, so if you’re uneasy about getting too attached to a WIP, this might be for you!
*Authors: If you have a tumblr (or other socials) you'd like linked, let me know and I'll add it. Also, if anyone doesn't want their socials linked here, please let me know and I'll gladly remove it.
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Jeans 👖
#one word prompt #Chenford one shot
REMEMBER: a one word prompt gets you a Chenford one-shot.
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“Don’t do it! Dad - do not do it! You DO NOT want to go in there right now. She’s kind of having a break down.” Tim stared down at his 16 year old daughter Diana, crossing his arms and widening his stance to match hers.
His baby girl who used to host tea parties with the neighbors’ dogs and her chinchillas, who used to rest her head on his shoulder when he read her bed time stories and explained the world to her, who now stood a few inches taller than her mom, with her thick wavy blond hair and her mom’s chocolate eyes brimming with mirth and laughter behind her, well his really, most intimidating TO scowl. She was gorgeous and kind and stubborn and cranky and if the rumors supplied by her younger brother were to be believed, she was secretly dating Angela’s son Mateo and she was by far, the most popular girl in school.
Diana was blocking his entrance into his and Lucy’s bedroom suite.
“I am not having a break-down!” came Lucy’s muted and slightly muffled voice from somewhere inside their bedroom.
“You know I can just pick you up and move you out of the way, right?”
“Oh really? Pff. Maybe when I was 7 and small for my age, you could grab me by my ankles and hold me upside down while telling me I was turning into a bat! I’m not gonna fall for that now!”
Tim looked down at her bare ankles and purple toenails as if considering doing that again. His back yelling at him internally to please, do not do that again.
Diana laughingly yelled back into the room, “he’s breaking through my defenses Mom! You might want to put some clothes on!”
Tim’s heart had started bursting at her laughter, because it was musical and happy like her mom and his mom, but then his eyes got big, and turned black with desire at the thought of Lucy unclothed less than 50 feet away.
Diana watched the shift in her Dad. Watching him shine love and affection down on her before shifting to something, deep, and feral, and fierce. She really enjoyed watching her Dad love her Mom. Yeah sure the PDA was over the top sometimes, but her parents without words had shown their kids that, deep, all-consuming love, affection and respect were possible and attainable. And worth it.
Then, with cat-like reflexes, Tim reaches forward and steps into a hug with Diana, wrapping his long arms around her, holding her close. Then before she could sink into the hug, he blows a raspberry on her neck and tickles her on her sides having effectively boxed her in with little wiggle room. Diana shrieks with laughter and instead of fighting like usual, tries the reflexive dead weight trick Aunt Nyla had shown her last week, sliding effortlessly out of his grasp to the ground before crab-crawling away and popping up again. “I’m immune to your tricks old man!”
Tim nods and points back at her with a huge grin while silently thanking both Angels and Nyla for suggesting the self-defense classes for Diana.
He then turns and enters his sanctuary - the part of the house where he feels the most at peace and at home because Lucy is here. Even after all these years, she makes his heart pound, his pulse race, and drives him crazy with desire. She’s his home in this building - their home.
“Luce - where are you love?”
“In here and yeah, I kind of am having a break-down.”
Tim pivots and heads to their walk in-closet to find Lucy sprawled on the floor in a navy blue t-shirt bra and boy short panties, one arm covering her eyes, and what looks like every pair of jeans they own strewn around her. She had been looking for something jeans related but now lay on the floor quietly crying.
Tim quickly lies down beside her and kisses her clavicle, right below where his very first Valentines Day gift still hangs around her neck. He’s given her quite a lot of jewelry over the years, but this simple gold circle on its delicate gold chain is worn almost every day since she got them.
“Honey, what’s with the jeans explosion? Aren’t you supposed to be at some garden party somewhere?”
“Yes, TJ’s school fundraiser garden party. I was there, wearing my favorite sunflower dress the one I always wear on Mother’s Day. But I was sent home for not wearing the ‘approved attire’ - jeans, a white top and a stupid garden hat covered in flowers. Apparently, I looked better than the hostess so she sent me home to change. That group clearly is still living in junior high. Ugh. It’s not my fault she’s a mean, angry, fat cow, that only fits into elastic-waisted jeans.”
“So then I get home, come up here and angrily start putting on jeans. And none of them fit! Not even my default safety jeans. The last time this happened I was pregnant with TJ. So I called the doctor to find out if that was even possible and she said no, it’s more likely due to the beginning of menopause. Then I started spiraling, thinking I’m turning into a blob who can only wear elastic wasted jeans. I understood Marjorie’s anger and then the tears came and they won’t stop. Your sexy wife is turning into a blob!”
Tim grabs Lucy and rolls them so she is laying on top of him, her head resting on his chest, and wraps his arms around her while kissing her temple. He holds her to him, lightly stroking her back, letting her cry it out. Over the years, they’ve mastered reading each other and silently communicating the kind of love and support needed in any situation. Right now Lucy needs quiet comfort.
When her breathing finally evens out and her tears stop flowing, Tim kisses her temple and says, “What did your Mom look like at your age? Your grandmothers? I don’t think I’ve ever seen elastic-waisted pants on any female in your family going back generations. Your DNA - your genes- are not programmed that way.
Which kind of is a bummer for me, because belt free, zipper free jeans? Hell yeah! A faster, easier way to get you naked? Sign. Me. Up! Why haven’t you been wearing those from the get go?
By now that’s hours, days, possibly weeks of extra naked time we missed out on because your jeans didn’t have an elastic waist band. I’m gonna sue for restitution - money, so I can take my honey on a multi-month, around-the-world-trip! A naked-time world tour, if you will.”
“You are ridiculous.”
“What I am, is stupidly, madly, deeply and completely head-over-heels in love with you. You could lose all your limbs and be a head and torso in a box and I would still be in love with you.”
“Oh god. We never should have watched that awful movie. A ‘Boxing Helena’ reference is not making me feel more attractive.”
“Ooh, but you know what will? My sex-on-a-stick husband romancing me tonight, on our back deck with candles, and fresh flowers, and something yummy on the grill. You can wear your khaki shorts and one of your snap shirts, and I can wear my sunflower dress. And you can unwrap me later.”
Tim immediately sits them both up, leans forward and kisses her silly. He is getting lucky tonight! (Well, really, he’d been lucky for a very long time).
“Diana! Grab your brothers and go to the Evers compound for the rest of the weekend- your mom and I need some time alone!”
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peakyswritings · 6 days
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Decided to have some fun with the simulator! Some of these are so accurate it’s scary lmaoo
@call-sign-shark @justrainandcoffee @evita-shelby @emotionalcadaver @moral-terpitude
THE BLOODBATH
As the tributes stand on their podiums, the horn sounds.
Ada Shelby finds a bow, some arrows, and a quiver.
Michael Gray runs away from the Cornucopia.
Arthur Shelby and Freddie Thorne fight for a bag. Freddie Thorne gives up and retreats.
Eva Smith, Quinn Meyer, and Polly Gray work together to get as many supplies as possible.
Johanna Mason runs away from the Cornucopia.
Rose Coldwell grabs a jar of fishing bait while Johnny Dogs gets fishing gear.
Isiah Jesus runs away from the Cornucopia.
Lucy Winters runs away from the Cornucopia.
Tommy Shelby runs away from the Cornucopia.
Gina Nelson runs away from the Cornucopia.
Alfie Solomons runs away from the Cornucopia.
Grace Burgess grabs a backpack, not realizing it is empty.
Jack Nelson runs away from the Cornucopia.
Aveline Young runs away from the Cornucopia.
Bonnie Gold runs away from the Cornucopia.
Finn Shelby snatches a bottle of alcohol and a rag.
Linda Shelby grabs a shovel.
Luca Changretta accidently steps on a landmine.
Nina Ferrante takes a spear from inside the cornucopia.
Heaven Lavey cannot handle the circumstances and commits suicide.
Nooo Shark, sorry for your girl
DAY 1 
Alfie Solomons overhears Freddie Thorne and Jack Nelson talking in the distance.
Finn Shelby chases Johnny Dogs.
Linda Shelby overhears Isiah Jesus and Gina Nelson talking in the distance.
Aveline Young attacks Eva Smith, but she manages to escape.
Rose Coldwell practices her archery.
Lucy Winters diverts Tommy Shelby's attention and runs away.
Nina Ferrante constructs a shack.
Arthur Shelby diverts Ada Shelby's attention and runs away.
Polly Gray, Quinn Meyer, Grace Burgess, Michael Gray, and Johanna Mason track down and kill Bonnie Gold.
Noooo Bonnie
3 cannon shots can be heard in the distance.
Fallen tributes:
Luca Changretta
Heaven Lavey
Bonnie Gold
NIGHT 1
Tommy Shelby climbs a tree to rest.
Quinn Meyer destroys Rose Coldwell's supplies while she is asleep.
Linda Shelby stays awake all night.
Finn Shelby receives an explosive from an unknown sponsor.
Jack Nelson, Gina Nelson, Arthur Shelby, Freddie Thorne, and Nina Ferrante sleep in shifts.
Polly Gray tries to sing herself to sleep.
Isiah Jesus taints Ada Shelby's food, killing her.
Lucy Winters receives medical supplies from an unknown sponsor.
Eva Smith loses sight of where she is.
Johnny Dogs attempts to start a fire, but is unsuccessful.
Alfie Solomons quietly hums.
Aveline Young lets Johanna Mason into her shelter.
Grace Burgess starts a fire.
Michael Gray receives clean water from an unknown sponsor.
DAY 2
Gina Nelson kills Isiah Jesus while he is resting.
Alfie Solomons diverts Rose Coldwell's attention and runs away.
Freddie Thorne stalks Tommy Shelby.
These two can’t help being at each other’s throat in every universe
Linda Shelby dies of dysentery.
Arthur Shelby questions his sanity.
Nina Ferrante runs away from Lucy Winters.
Johanna Mason and Johnny Dogs hunt for other tributes.
Polly Gray sees smoke rising in the distance, but decides not to investigate.
Finn Shelby questions his sanity.
Michael Gray practices his archery.
Grace Burgess camouflauges herself in the bushes.
Aveline Young hunts for other tributes.
Quinn Meyer sprains her ankle while running away from Jack Nelson.
Eva Smith makes a slingshot.
Fallen tributes:
Ada Shelby
Isiah Jesus
Linda Shelby
NIGHT 2
Aveline Young kills Johanna Mason while she is sleeping.
Grace Burgess, Gina Nelson, and Jack Nelson cheerfully sing songs together.
Michael Gray convinces Polly Gray to snuggle with him.
Nina Ferrante screams for help.
Rose Coldwell and Freddie Thorne hold hands.
Finn Shelby thinks about home.
Eva Smith lets Alfie Solomons into her shelter.
Tommy Shelby stabs Arthur Shelby in the back with a trident.
Tommy tf are you doing
Quinn Meyer thinks about home.
Lucy Winters and Johnny Dogs sleep in shifts.
DAY 3
Grace Burgess injures herself.
Freddie Thorne scares Jack Nelson off.
Gina Nelson attacks Lucy Winters, but she manages to escape.
Rose Coldwell searches for a water source.
Tommy Shelby constructs a shack.
Aveline Young receives a hatchet from an unknown sponsor.
Polly Gray chases Johnny Dogs.
Quinn Meyer overhears Michael Gray and Nina Ferrante talking in the distance.
Alfie Solomons travels to higher ground.
Eva Smith stalks Finn Shelby.
Fallen tributes:
Johanna Mason
Arthur Shelby
NIGHT 3
Rose Coldwell thinks about winning.
Jack Nelson starts a fire.
Tommy Shelby is awoken by nightmares.
Quinn Meyer and Grace Burgess run into each other and decide to truce for the night.
Lucy Winters stays awake all night.
Finn Shelby is unable to start a fire and sleeps without warmth.
Gina Nelson begs for Nina Ferrante to kill her. She reluctantly obliges, killing Gina Nelson.
Michael Gray sets up camp for the night.
Johnny Dogs, Eva Smith, and Aveline Young start fighting, but Eva Smith runs away as Johnny Dogs kills Aveline Young.
Freddie Thorne and Alfie Solomons talk about the tributes still alive.
Polly Gray thinks about home.
DAY 4
Eva Smith attacks Grace Burgess, but she manages to escape.
Jack Nelson, Johnny Dogs, Polly Gray, and Finn Shelby hunt for other tributes.
Rose Coldwell, Quinn Meyer, and Lucy Winters hunt for other tributes.
Tommy Shelby chases Alfie Solomons.
Well this is accurate
Nina Ferrante fishes.
Michael Gray camouflauges himself in the bushes.
Freddie Thorne cannot handle the circumstances and commits suicide.
Fallen tributes:
Gina Nelson
Aveline Young
Freddie Thorne
NIGHT 4
Eva Smith receives clean water from an unknown sponsor.
Quinn Meyer, Rose Coldwell, and Nina Ferrante cheerfully sing songs together.
This made me laugh. Girls there’s nothing to be cheerful about.
Michael Gray receives a hatchet from an unknown sponsor.
Lucy Winters, Johnny Dogs, Finn Shelby, and Polly Gray tell each other ghost stories to lighten the mood.
Jack Nelson receives medical supplies from an unknown sponsor.
Tommy Shelby tries to treat his infection.
Grace Burgess taints Alfie Solomons's food, killing him.
DAY 5
Finn Shelby and Lucy Winters work together for the day.
Jack Nelson and Eva Smith hunt for other tributes.
Tommy Shelby attacks Polly Gray, but Nina Ferrante protects her, killing Tommy Shelby.
👀
Grace Burgess scares Johnny Dogs off.
Quinn Meyer kills Rose Coldwell with a sickle.
Michael Gray makes a wooden spear.
Fallen tributes:
Alfie Solomons
Tommy Shelby
Rose Coldwell
NIGHT 5
Michael Gray cries himself to sleep.
Nina Ferrante and Quinn Meyer tell stories about themselves to each other.
Eva Smith begs for Polly Gray to kill her. She refuses, keeping Eva Smith alive.
Jack Nelson and Grace Burgess sleep in shifts.
Johnny Dogs quietly hums.
Lucy Winters and Finn Shelby talk about the tributes still alive.
DAY 6
Quinn Meyer, Johnny Dogs, Polly Gray, and Jack Nelson raid Michael Gray's camp while he is hunting.
Finn Shelby overhears Lucy Winters and Eva Smith talking in the distance.
Nina Ferrante shoots a poisonous blow dart into Grace Burgess's neck, slowly killing her.
ARENA EVENT
A fire spreads throughout the arena.
Quinn Meyer survives.
Jack Nelson falls to the ground, but kicks Polly Gray hard enough to then push her into the fire.
The fire catches up to Nina Ferrante, killing her.
Rip my girl, you always get to this point then get killed off
Michael Gray kills Eva Smith in order to utilize a body of water safely.
The fire catches up to Finn Shelby, killing him.
Lucy Winters survives.
The fire catches up to Johnny Dogs, killing him.
Fallen tributes:
Grace Burgess
Polly Gray
Nina Ferrante
Eva Smith
Finn Shelby
Johnny Dogs
NIGHT 6
Quinn Meyer starts a fire.
Jack Nelson destroys Lucy Winters's supplies while she is asleep.
Michael Gray dies from an infection.
THE FEAST
The cornucopia is replenished with food, supplies, weapons, and memoirs from the tributes' families.
Lucy Winters decides not to go to The Feast.
Jack Nelson decides not to go to The Feast.
Quinn Meyer decides not to go to The Feast.
DAY 7
Jack Nelson tends to Quinn Meyer's wounds.
Lucy Winters is pricked by thorns while picking berries.
ARENA EVENT
The arena's border begins to rapidly contract.
Lucy Winters restrains Jack Nelson to a tree and leaves him to die.
Quinn Meyer trips on a tree root and is unable to recover fast enough.
Fallen tributes:
Michael Gray
Jack Nelson
Quinn Meyer
The winner is Lucy Winters from District 12!
Congrats @emotionalcadaver your girl won again!
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coridotmp3 · 5 months
Note
thanks for the tag, cori! your wip titles are immaculate. I absolutely must know about 99.3 kiss fm, jason sudeikis must pay, and mickey mouse the matchmaker.
:) thank you darling !!
99.3 KISS FM
This one's a college! bob floyd x reader !! bob, reader (nickname: cherry, pronouns: they/them), and various other daggers work the late shift at their college's radio station!! there's just endless amounts of mutual pining, a dash of miscommunication, and so many song references that only i will understand <3
have a little taste:
As the studio filled with the slow strums of “Trust” by Lucy Dacus, you made sure your mic was off before turning to the blob on the couch across from you. 
“Was that still too wordy? I’m really trying to take Penny’s note about brevity to heart but how else am I supposed to fill time?” 
Bob’s eyes shot up from where they had been focused on his laptop, composing his next setlist for the shift after yours. “I don’t think it was wordy but I think your pacing is more of an issue here. You literally said take a breath, but talked too fast to take one yourself. You’ll sound less like you’re rambling if you just slow down, speak with confidence.”
"If I had realized this job would be so stressful, I never would have begged Penny to let me sign up." You pouted, slumping in the desk chair as much as you could without falling off.
“Cherry, you’re fine! It’s not like the 12 people listening to a college radio station are gonna be concerned with your takes between songs. Not when you have the best song queue out of the whole lineup bar one.”
“If that one is you, I’m gonna smack you upside the head, Bo. I’m not listening to a whole night of The Cars, not again.”
“You love The Cars!”
“Yeah, in moderation! Not when I have to hear “My Best Friend’s Girl” eight times in a row at 2 in the morning!”
“I take back every nice thing I’ve ever said about you, obviously you have no taste.”
jason sudeikis must pay aka the hangster sleeping with other people au
two lonely souls in college agree to lose their virginities to each other, only to spend the next ten years having very strained relationships with sex. When they meet again in a sex addicts support group, Jake and Bradley decide to use their renewed friendship to help each other heal. Maybe, in more ways than one. (and also rhett abbott is there because i needed a scapegoat thank you <3)
something to whet your appetite:
"He came through every few weeks on one of his bull riding tours or to meet with vendors. He never stayed more than a night before he went back to her, and I was left with this profound emptiness in his absence.
I let myself get wrapped up in his world. I deluded myself with these fantasies that one day he would stay. All I wanted was for him to stay. I just wanted to be enough for him, so I broke myself apart into something I thought he would want. There's no telling how much of me I lost pursuing that pipe dream.
"Must have been a pretty good pipe to string you along like this for the past ten years."
"Oh shut up, Bradshaw."
"No, I'm serious! What, is it ten inches? Is it made of gold? Can it vibrate? What about him and his magical two foot long dick had you so spellbound?"
mickey mouse the matchmaker
this one is soooooo very self-indulgent. it's bob x mickey's cousin (x reader for now but that is subject to change). BASICALLY, mickey and bob have been good friends since their OCS training in Rhode Island all those years ago. While they were stationed in Newport, Mickey and Bob would go and visit Mickey's cousin while she was in school in Providence. Bob and the cousin got along like a house on fire, but were both too scared to do anything about it (even though mickey knows they both want to). Fast forward a few years, and she moves out to San Diego where the daggers are now stationed. AND WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, READER NEEDS A PLACE TO LIVE AND BOB HAS AN EXTRA ROOM !! Mickey's masterplan is all coming together
(there's no excerpt for this one because the whole fic is just various one-liners strung together with a wish and a prayer)
CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOUR WIPS DARLING !!!
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s2 prompt: sometimes mulder goes to scully's in the middle of the night just to check that she's there/safe bc he fears she might've been abducted again
shaking sobbing throwing up he WOULD. my thought process for this literally went Prompt -> a conversation with @fortes-fortuna-iogurtum -> listening to Lucy Dacus Fool's Gold on loop for like three and a half hours btw, in case you wanted to know adjskandksnsj. you probably won't get the full experience unless you listen to that song tbh
all glittering fool's gold
s2 post-One Breath | 2.7k words | rated G | canon compliant-ish? | tagging @today-in-fic | AO3
It's New Year's Eve and Scully is at home, alone. She'd wanted to be, because after a week tired and trapped in a hospital and another three with her mother and Melissa trying very hard and failing even harder not to baby her, she opted out of going to watch fireworks tonight. Anyway, she keeps flinching at the sounds of bottle rockets being shot off that leak in through her windows, keeps flinching every time she looks through the front window, doesn't want to sit there like she used to, because that — that, she can remember.
There's little sparks of color above the skyline, little showers of light that will burn out before they hit the ground. Scully watches the glimmers that she can see with a soft, too-long robe — one of Missy's, maybe — wrapped around her and one hand wrapped around a half-full glass of wine. Usually, she wouldn't stay up until midnight unless she was out with friends or with family; those aren't the kind of traditions she places much stock in. But it's fifteen minutes until the new year, and she is feeling the loss of three months.
Lights, brighter than fireworks and far, far closer, flash through the front window she's been trying to avoid and Scully's entire body tenses up. It's so bright. It only takes her a few seconds to recognize the brightness as a car's headlights, though, and just a few more to recognize whose car it is. She forces her muscles to relax, manages a deep breath and ignores the fluttering of her heart. She's tired but doesn't want to sleep, she's brought this on herself by staying up and by drinking, even if it was only one glass; she can and will rationalize her way out of her own panic.
She tips her head in wonder with no one to see and leaves the rest of her glass of wine in the sink. She double-checks through the peephole, double-checks that her robe is wrapped securely around her, and swings the door open before Mulder can even lift his hand to knock. His eyes go wide, flickering hazel and he stares at her for a long second. This is the first time they've seen each other since she convinced her mom to let her go back to her own apartment.
"Hi," he says quietly, at thirteen minutes until the new year, and she silently lets him in.
"Hi," she says back, watching him sidestep around her while hiding something behind his back. She shuts the door, leans back against it. "What are you doing here?"
Mulder shrugs. "I thought I'd come wish you a happy New Year." He toes off his shoes and she finally notices that he, too, is in much more casual clothing than usual.
The familiar denim shirt he'd let her borrow once when she spilled coffee on her blouse in the car is partially hidden by a leather jacket she doesn't recognize, that he must have gotten while she was gone. Scully blinks at the thought, tips her head again and wants to ask what he's hiding from her, whether by his presence or what he's holding behind him.
"I didn't expect you to still be up, honestly," he admits. "But, on the off chance," he sees her look and shoots her a fireworks-bright smile before holding out a bottle. It's champagne, and not the cheap kind, either. "Happy New Year!"
Scully laughs in surprise that she didn't expect to light her up so much. "I didn't think you'd stay up, either," she says, taking the proffered bottle and pointedly not looking at the price label on the bottom. She doesn't want to know. "Thank you," she adds, a little softer, leads the way to the kitchen and casts a look to make sure he follows.
"Ah, what's the point of an extra holiday if not to stay up late?" He jokes. "Hey, Scully?"
She looks over her shoulder, reaching blindly and familiar to grab two glasses. Everything in her home is exactly as she kept it; she doesn't need to look. She doesn't have champagne flutes, so she pulls down another long-stemmed wine glass and quickly pours out what was left in hers and rinses it. "Yes?"
Mulder watches her with searching eyes, a way she would be annoyed by from anyone else, but she knows it's more out of care than anything else. "How are you doing?" He asks, a little hesitantly, like he knows that she'd yelled at Melissa last week for asking too much. She wonders if they talk about her and hopes they don't. They are the two people in the world who can get to the bottom of her best.
She shrugs, holds the bottle out to him and he takes the hint, pops the cork. "I'm fine," she says, something she's getting very used to repeating. It's true, aside from the way she froze when she saw his headlights through the window and except for how she's trying not to pay too much attention to the gunshot-like sounds of fireworks.
It's nine minutes to the New Year, and Scully hands Mulder a glass and takes her own and doesn't even tense up when she sits near the front window. The pop-pop-pop of pyrotechnics isn't like thunder and lightning, she can't calculate how close it is by time passed. She curls her feet underneath her, tries not to sit closer to Mulder than she has, no matter how glad she is he's here. Maybe she was wrong about being alone on the way into a new year that feels like it's coming too suddenly. Nine minutes, three months; it's more time than it seems like.
She takes a sip of overpriced, gesture-of-affection champagne, and it's warm and fizzly down her throat. Like fireworks, she thinks. "I'm glad you're here," she blurts suddenly, lifting her eyes to his. He'd spent good money on her for no reason and come to check on her on New Year's Eve, when she hadn't even known she needed it.
Mulder barks out a raw little laugh, equal parts joy and desperation. "I'm glad you're here, Scully," he says, grinning at her with circles under his eyes that she didn't notice at first.
He looks worn down, she feels uncertain. There's a little bit of light in both of them, though, and a part of her wants to blame the alcohol. Champagne can intoxicate you faster than beer; she thinks of the fireworks outside, their light illuminating the sky and then flickering out on the way down. She wonders if Mulder understands what she's saying; she is better now that he's here, and that much is not bubbly alcohol.
He looks away after a moment, busies himself with his own glass. Scully studies him for a moment, the sadness and hope in his eyes that's always been there but that's more obvious now, the way his hair sticks up in front — he's clearly gotten a haircut recently, and she wants for just a moment to run a hand through it — how he sits, relaxed but somehow still tightly coiled much the same as she is. The shadows under his eyes, like they've escaped from inside him; she wonders how much she seems the same if he were to look at her this way.
Another sip, like a bubbly sweet swallow of courage, and she puts her hand on his arm. Mulder looks up at her, a little more surprised than he really should be, because they've touched each other so easily and so much until recently. "You look tired," Scully notes, with a hint of a question.
Mulder chuckles, looks at her hand on his wrist like he wants to slide his own hand back and hold it, and maybe she wishes he would. "Insomnia will do that to a person, I hear." He couches it in a joke, but she hears more than that.
When they travel, he's usually asleep before she is, unless it's a particularly compelling case. She can fall asleep practically anywhere, be it a plane or an airport or a rental car, but she's seen him practically melt into hotel beds before. If she were to knock on his door in the night — which she's only done once, when he got a concussion and she needed to check on him — she's more likely to be greeted by a soft snore than anything else. She isn't an insomniac herself, or at least she doesn't think she is, but she's found that he usually rests easily. It was something she noted on their first case, even, when the plane was half full and he stretched out across an entire row of seats and slept for most of the flight.
She frowns, searches over his face for an answer that doesn't require a question and finds none, except for the way he's looking at her. "Mulder, since when do you have trouble sleeping? You've never been an insomniac."
He shakes his head, smiles in a way that she doesn't like because she can tell, deep down, that he's forcing it. He swirls his glass, takes another drink, tops off both of their glasses from the bottle. "Since uh," he mumbles, "Since you were taken." It comes out fast, tumbling past his lips like a confession, and he won't look at her. "I still can't really-" he breaks off, shrugs. When he finally looks at her, it's with sad eyes and a soft smile. "It doesn't matter."
Scully bites back the urge to snap that it does, it does matter, and finds that she's suddenly reeling just a little bit. She knows he'd kept her cross, her mother had said that he'd worn it, and that rocked her hard enough as it is. Mulder, who's never had faith in the things she does and vice versa, wearing the symbol of her faith. Mulder, not sleeping because of what happened to her. It hits her then how much her abduction has affected him, how much he hasn't shown for the sake of putting her first. Maybe the alcohol is making her emotional, maybe it's the ball dropping in her heart at the same time it drops in Times Square, but she wants just a little bit to cry.
"Happy New Year," Mulder whispers, and she glances at the clock and watches the two hands come aligned. The new year has come, far too fast, and she'd nearly missed it. She doesn't feel any different.
Beside her, Mulder downs the last of his champagne. On the other side of her, outside the window, a resounding, crackling rocket goes off, light and sound at the same moment, and she jumps, squeezing her eyes shut against the flash of fear and squeezing the stem of her glass in one hand. Mulder's hand finally meets hers, and she flicks her eyes open, too wide, too irrationally afraid — she doesn't know why the fireworks are setting her off — and he's staring at her with more concern, more gentleness than she knows what to do with.
"I'm okay," she says, carefully so her voice won't shake. "Just startled me. They're not supposed to set those off in residential areas," she adds with a lightness she doesn't feel. Reluctantly, she pulls her hand from his, stands to take both their glasses and finish the rest of hers on the way to the kitchen. She has to turn her back, has to compose herself.
"Since when do people follow those kinds of rules?"
He follows her, of course, into the kitchen while she stands over the sink and drinks the last of her glass of champagne. She's saving the rest of it for the next time she wants that brightness. She wants to laugh, maybe, at the fact that Mulder bought her something so expensive. She wants to cry, maybe, because she doesn't understand why he would do that. She doesn't understand why he's here, even if she is glad of it.
She turns around, faces him once she thinks she can. "Mulder, why... why are you here?" She asks, not sharply, but maybe a little rougher than she means to. She just wants to understand.
His eyes go big again, the way they had when she first let him in, and the expression is endearing. "To... to celebrate," he shrugs. "New Year's, fireworks." He pauses, looks at his feet, looks back at her, eyes tracing over her face and her stature and then back to meet her gaze again. "You're here," he says. "I wanted to check that you're- here, and alright. To... remind myself," he admits.
"To remind both of us," she murmurs under her breath, and she doesn't know if he hears it because he doesn't respond. "Mulder, do you think-" she stops herself, rubs the tip of her nose.
He's watching her, waiting for her to finish her sentence, and she's not sure if it's a good idea, but she doesn't think she's going to sleep well tonight — she's lived here long enough to know the fireworks won't stop until the sun comes up, or maybe longer — and he won't either, he'd just admitted it himself. He doesn't sleep well, anymore, which probably means he doesn't sleep.
She wraps her arms around herself, feeling empty-handed and wanting, more than anything, for the warmth she'd felt with that first sip of champagne again. "Do you think you would sleep better with me?" She finally manages, her voice quiet and questioning.
Mulder visibly stops short, stops breathing, stares at her like she's speaking another language. "What?" He breathes, like he's panicking, like she had a moment ago.
Scully shrugs, leans her head to the side. "I'm going to have trouble sleeping, too," she admits, hiding another flinch and instead glancing toward the glitter falling down in the corner of the window that she can see from here. "You could stay here tonight," she offers, as more aggravatingly, terrifying bottle rockets go off and make her think it's doomsday instead of the dawn of a new year. "That way we... you can know that I'm here."
Mulder stares at her, mouth hanging half open. "Scully, you... really?"
She nods, because it's all she can do and if she tries to talk again, she's either going to start giggling or start crying. There's something borderline ridiculous about all of this, something that would be comedic, would be unimaginable with anyone but the two of them. She doesn't want to ask, doesn't want to make it for her sake even though it already is, but she hopes he understands. Barely over a month ago she was presumed dead, then almost dead. Fireworks are newly terrifying and bubbly white wine is possibly the best thing she's felt since waking up.
"Okay," he says, eyes full of something that might be exhaustion, might be longing, might be hope.
She checks the lock on the door again, glances at the lock on the front window — but then, what did that ever matter anyway? — and feels as if she's letting go of something she's had in a chokehold, or maybe it's letting go of her. She looks at Mulder, studying her like she'd been studying him, like she's a mystery he can't unravel; like she's one of his x-files, and she is now, isn't she?
The couch is soft when she sinks into it, in a way she hasn't noticed until now, and Mulder's eyes are even softer. There's a fleeting moment when a small, quiet part of her wants to kiss him, but mostly, she just wants to be near him. Another burst of fireworks resounds outside and she flinches again, feels her pulse pick up for a few beats, and she glimpses just for a second the look in Mulder's eyes as he watches her. She doesn't like seeing the pain in him any more than he likes seeing it in her.
In the morning, she'll blame the alcohol, or the fireworks or full moon. She'll blame her own human need, or the forces that did this to her, or the fall of man, but right now she is coming up empty-handed, and there's something warm fizzing in her chest when she closes her eyes and tucks herself against Mulder and he puts his arms around her.
"I've got you," he whispers against the top of her head, and she huffs a warm, sleepy chuckle.
"Yeah," she replies, feeling the knot in her gut start to unclench. "Mulder."
"Scully?"
"I'm here."
Outside, fireworks light up the skyline, a fizzy kind of fool's gold.
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Text
Long and happy was their reign. The Pevensie children grew up and grew old. Twenty, forty, fifty years. A golden age.
They all bore scars: from when Lucy took an arrow to the shoulder and Susan took a fall from a horse and Edmund took a blade to the thigh. But Peter’s scars put all of theirs to shame. The various marks and aches of a warrior-king’s body are too numerous to name. Swords to the back and chest and arms and legs. Arrow to the foot. The point of a spear to the side. More than he could remember, after a while.
Peter began to gray before the rest of them too, which wasn’t surprising since he was the eldest. What was, perhaps, surprising was how early he began to gray. Threads of silver began to appear at Peter’s temple when he was scarce thirty-five. Yet this, Lune told him, was the way of kings. Tis a poor ruler whose concerns do not drive the color from his hair, he said. Peter laughed and shook his head, but he wore every gray hair with pride from then on.  
Peter was proud of all that Aslan had entrusted to his concern. His kingdom. His siblings. The images would come back to him in snatches later: Lucy, twenty-three, with the sun in her hair beneath the gold banner of Aslan. Edmund, forty-five, covered in red road-dust as he slid from his horse. Susan, sixty-two, twining silvery ivy through her silver-streaked hair
.
Long and happy. As any fairytale ought to end. Lucy would know.
She shot up fast like a flower in spring, but privately she always felt young for her age. It wasn’t until Tumnus chided her for it that she stopped appending “Mr.” to the front of his name. She never managed it at all with Mr. Beaver, for all the years of their friendship. He was too much like her father—wasn’t he? —well, too much like a father, at any rate.
All those years, Lucy saw Aslan the most, except for when she saw him the least. It was not all a fairytale, you know. For nearly ten years, between 1023 and 1034, Lucy saw neither mane nor claw of Aslan. The absence wrote creases into her forehead. Lucy watched the sunrise from her balcony each morning and whispered her fears across the sea.
When at last Aslan came to her again, Lucy felt each one of those ten years. She was angry, yes, but when the anger subsided, mostly she was just older. She longed for the Lion’s presence more than ever.
She would never forget the soft scratch of Aslan’s mane between her fingers, no matter how long it had been since last she touched it. She would never forget the warmth of Susan’s embrace upon returning to the Cair after an absence, nor the unkempt scruff of Peter’s beard after action, nor the liquid-cool stone of the architectural models Edmund kept arrayed on his desk.
.
Happy. Edmund had been horrified by Narnia for a week, but he was happy there for years and decades afterwards. Happy, like he’d never believed he could be.
The past was washed away with the ocean tide and Edmund found himself eager to build things. High towers for Susan, long bridges for Lucy, strong walls for Peter. He constructed roads all across the country, sealed them with his signet, and anointed them with oil and a song to Aslan. In youth, Edmund’s energetic fervor was nigh unmatched.
His health began to suffer in his later years. Joint pain, mostly, and restless legs after a while. Edmund drifted further and further back from the front lines of battle, eventually landing himself in a command tent that he never again left. He didn’t mind much. Edmund had fought bravely and well as a youth, and he had never been a warrior in his soul the way Peter and Lucy were. Edmund worked, and in rhythm, he rested.
He drank wine in moderation, ate Turkish Delight when it pleased him, and savored every nuance of the taste. He sipped chamomile with Su in the parlor, though he seeped his longer for extra flavor. Lu brought currants and persimmon from her wanderings, apples and blackberries from the yards outside the castle. On Peter’s fiftieth birthday, Edmund ate a decadent slice of the most ostentatious cake he’d seen in his life and tried not to laugh too hard at his brother’s expense.
.
Long. If she was honest, Susan imagined it would never end.
Oh, she made plans for the succession right along with the rest of her siblings. A proper monarch must make arrangements for the future, even if she’d rather not. All the same, Susan tried not to think on it overmuch. She was forever wishing to stay behind, even as time propelled her forward.
Susan struggled the most with aging out of all her siblings, not out of vanity but because she did not easily embrace change. When Cor was rediscovered, Susan loved him at once—but she also missed the bond that just she and Corin had shared. When her siblings strayed far from the Cair, Susan left candles in their windows and wished to have them back home. When Narnia’s boarders expanded, Susan missed the graceful slopes of old lines on old, outdated maps.  
And, Aslan help her, when Susan finally cut her hair, forty-five and practical enough to realize that it was time, she wept into her pillow that night.
So perhaps it was not surprising that Susan still held onto parts of Narnia even after she’d done her best to leave it behind. Years after they had all died far, far too young, Susan was sure she remembered what her siblings had sounded like old. She knew that at fifty Lucy’s laugh had spanned a whole octave, running up and down the notes like chimes. She knew that Edmund’s voice had softened with age while Peter’s had grown louder; that by the time they were sixty, Edmund had sighed like deep river and Peter had snored like a locomotive. She remembered, and she missed them.  
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abbatoirablaze · 5 months
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25 Days Of Christmas
So the other day I decided that every day in December, or at least the first 25, I'm doing a Christmas drabble or one shot based around the characters I write for. So far this is what I'm thinking.
I put all the characters I write for in a randomizer/generator, along with a few different prompts and here's what I got.
December 1, Natasha Romanov/Yelena Belova, Missed Connections
December 2, GOD (Ghosted), Origin Story
December 3, Esteban Ocon, Meet Cute
December 4, Tom Hiddleston, PR Relationship
December 5, Yuki Tsunoda, Slow burn
December 6, Remus Lupin (young marauder), step brother
December 7, Klaus Hargreeves, First Sexual Encounter
December 8, Johnny Storm, Sex Tape
December 9, Valkyrie, Mafia
December 10, Daniel Riccairdo, Blackmail
December 11, Fandral, Bad boy with a heart of gold
December 12, Steve Kemp, Groundhog day scenario, basement wife
December 13, Arthur Leclerc, Best friends to lovers
December 14, Aegon Targaryen, Exhibitionism
December 15, Chase Collins, Virgin Sacrifice
December 16, Loki, Roleplay/Disguise
December 17, Lucy McConky, Somnophilia
December 18, Charles Leclerc, Onlyfans
December 19, Soldier Boy, Overstimulated
December 20, Fred and George Weasley, Threesome
December 21, Chris Evans, Drugged
December 22, Sebastian Stan, Love at first sight
December 23, Sirius Black, Sex Toys
December 24, Fernando Alonso, Breeding
December 25, Ben Curtis, Bondage
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wafflesinthe504 · 2 years
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The Rookie 5x05 Thoughts
Spoilers for episode 5x05 of The Rookie! If you don't care about spoilers or have already watched the episode, please enjoy!
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Alright a lot of things GREAT things happened tonight. One of those being us finally meeting three out of four of Angela's brothers (all four would have been nice but it's better than nothing). The fact that each of them lead very different lifestyles and obviously have different relationships with Angela and each other was great to see and I'm surprised that The Rookie was able to pull it off decently well. I hope that we continue to see the brothers in future episodes. Maybe not all three of them but one or two popping up from time to time would be nice. Even them simply calling or being name dropped from here on out would a good way to keep up the momentum. I hope we do get to see Angela's fourth brother sometime in the future.
The ending scene with Angela's family was great to watch. And the Speech made me emotional. I just loved them all. Honestly, I could probably watch a whole spin-off of just the Lopez family.
One and a half: Angela and Nyla teaming up to figure out which one of Angela's brothers is responsible for their mom being hurt was great to see. I love their friendship. Also Nyla getting slightly annoyed with Ang because she's not used to having to sit out in the interrogation was funny.
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Two: Seeing one of Tim's old injuries actually coming back to stab him in the back, quite literally. The fact that we're finally getting some follow up to Tim being shot in the first season is amazing. Also, Lucy being there every part of him being injured and healing is lovely.
Additionally, seeing Tim be open about him being worried about the surgery and how it could affect him was so emotional. Most of the other times we've seen Tim deny his worry or cover it up by expressing through anger, but this time we get a truly good look at how anxious the surgery makes him and shows a lot of progression is character.
(Also Grey ending up in the hospital because of food poisoning was hilarious)
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Three: The best thing ever to happen in this episode was to see Lucy Chen in charge!!! And not just over a few officer but acting as sergeant while both Tim and Wade were incapacitated. All she needed was a little push from Nyla and she was off to the races. The way that each of the officers respect her was amazing to see. I mean just the fact that both Wade and Tim decided that Lucy should be the one in charge was absolutely spectacular. At this point if Lucy doesn't get some sort of promotion by the end of the season I don't know what I'm going to do because she has already proved herself like a hundred times over. I mean honestly come on, if anyone really deserves a golden ticket its Lucy Chen. Seriously, I'm going to need more scenes with Lucy being in charge.
Other final thoughts: You guys didn't think I would forget the break up right? Tim and Ashley have finally broken up. Thank goodness. Although I am happy with the fact that they have finally broken up I do wish that the reasoning had been a little bit more consistent with what we've already seen, rather than another reason being forced in this episode. (Hopefully, Chris and Lucy will break up soon or have already broken up. Either way is fine with me.)
Lucy and Tim's last moments in the hospital, all that was missing for me was a little hand hold. I already know the moment they get together I'm about to be jumping out of my seat with joy.
Aaron and Angela's mom's immediate friendship had me cracking up. Both of them trying to setup someone from their family was absolute gold. I wonder if Aaron is going to go on a date with Isabelle.
Getting to know Officer Juarez more and more has been fun and makes Nolan just a little bit more tolerable. Her trick with the morphine was ingenious.
Nolan and Bailey wedding coming up so here's hoping for another Chenford dance!
Until next time have a great day or night!
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robthewriter · 10 months
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Cruising Caspian’s Seas (not a spelling mistake)
So, I have been following an entertaining thread in one of my Goodreads groups. Someone asked, “Just for fun, if you could visit one setting of a Sci-Fi or Fantasy book for a day, which would you choose and why?”
There were some great suggestions, like the Shire, Wall, to visit the fair every nine years, Rivendell, Arrakis, San Francisco in the Star Trek universe and a lot more, that if I’m honest, I didn’t get and had to Google.
This reminded me of the FAQs I answered when I first set up my Goodreads author page…
Q: If you could travel to any fictional book world, where would you go and what would you do there?
A: Robin Tompkins That’s a tricky question. Most of the fictional places I engage with, tend to be great to read about but probably not the best places to actually visit. It’s a bit obvious of me but I would perhaps say Narnia? Not White Witch era Narnia though. Perhaps they are running Dawn Treader cruises now? Nice, comfy, all-inclusive ones, with a good buffet and a nice bar? I’d probably do that.
Which got me thinking about what that cruise would be like exactly…
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Join us on our latest island-hopping cruise,
In the Footsteps of the Dawn Treader
Cruising on either MS Cair Paravel or MS Queen Lucy, identical sister ships recently refurbished to the highest standards. Facilities include: two pools, sauna, spa, gym and fitness centre. Five restaurants, eight bars, movie theatre, planetarium and enclosed observation deck.
Itinerary:
Depart Cair Paravel docks on an early morning sailing into the Great Eastern Ocean.
The Lone Islands
Plenty of time to visit the bustling local markets and get a bite to eat at one of the many fine restaurants, or, if you prefer, the street food scene here is a lively one.
Optional Tour
Guided excursion to the Ducal Palace (former Governor’s residence) and a chance to hear about the darker side of the island’s history, with a visit to the Museum of Slavery. Entrance to both included.
Dragon Island
A small but lovely island with an interesting past. Simply relax on the beach or at one of the many cool beach bars. Local speciality is a cocktail made with fermented palm sap called a “Hot Dragon,” (two shots) or a “Warm Dragon,” (one shot).
Optional Tour
Locally guided tour to the Dragon’s Cave. Marvel at the life size animatronic dragon and see the actual dragon bones in the small museum. The museum shop is a great place to pick up souvenirs, they have dragon themed gifts to suit all budgets, from key rings and fridge magnets to gigantic and wonderfully cuddly plushies!
Deathwater Island
An unremarkable looking little island with quite the secret. Purchase one of the sweet little key ring sized teddy bears from the gift shop at the docks and follow our experienced guide up to “The Pool.” Please, Please, stay behind the line and listen to your guide at all times, it’s for your own safety. Watch, as the local custodian takes your teddies for a dip in the pool and returns them to you, now made from solid gold!
Duffer’s Island
The friendly locals will make you very welcome. There is plenty to see and do here and the restaurants are superb. However, you might want to be aware of this comment that we snipped from “Trip Advisor.”
“The Dufflepuds could not have been more welcoming. Lovely restaurant, decorated in the island style with curios everywhere and a great ambience. The food is to die for but don’t make my mistake, you have to remember the local’s mode of locomotion here people… Don’t order the soup, don’t order the soup or any, and I mean any, hot beverage… oh yes, and no red wine either, don’t go there, trust me.”
Optional Tour
Guided visit to the Magician’s Palace and two hour “introduction to simple spell casting” lesson with a registered second year apprentice magician.
The Dark Island
Unfortunately, due to new international maritime guidelines and certain well publicised incidents that you may be aware of, we no longer take parties ashore here. It is still a spectacular and mysterious site as we sail by though.
The Island of the Star
There is a wealth of information available at the visitor centre here and in the “Sleeping Lords” Museum. Star spotters though need to be cautious, as Ramandu and his lovely daughter understandably, do not like people turning up unannounced at their gates. There are however, a number of lovely items that they have been gracious enough to trap a little starlight in, available in the gift shop. These range from earrings and necklaces, through to tiny bottles of starlight and snow globes. Proceeds from the sale of these items benefit local charities.
Merpeople Fiesta
At the edge of the “Sweet Seas” we anchor up. Your ship will hold a spectacular gala party with fireworks and dancing. It’s Merpeople themed, and costumes are available in our onboard shop. For that authentic touch, why not barter with the actual Merpeople who will swim out to the ship in the afternoon? They love to trade for their hand made trinkets, sustainably made from coral and shells.
Only the Brave
If you are brave enough, the ship’s launch can take a small party out onto the Lily Sea to get a better look at the Reepicheep memorial and the Great Wave. The really intrepid can take out a two-man kayak with one of our expert guides and get even closer. Please note that the line of lion headed buoys marks the international Aslan Line and your guide cannot take you beyond that point in line with maritime law. Please be aware that places are limited on this excursion, it’s first come first served, so register early.
A Fond Farewell?
For those on the Short Package, we sadly must say farewell. You will portal back via picture/wardrobe to your original joining point. *
The party is not over yet for those clients who opted for the Full Package. Your ship will now return to Narnia Cair Paravel Docks via a limited stop reverse of the outward route. There will be more days at sea but that is all the more time to enjoy the wonderful facilities and “me time” available on your lavishly appointed cruise ship.
Here be Sea Serpents
You may have noticed on your maps an area near Deathwater Island marked “Here be Sea Serpents.” The reverse route will take in this enigmatic ocean area and if you are lucky and we usually are (management cannot guarantee sightings) you will be able to observe these magnificent creatures in their natural habitat. For your own safety, we recommend viewing from the enclosed observation deck, where our resident serpent expert will be on hand to answer all of your questions.
Cair Paravel and Sadly we Must Say Goodbye
Upon docking at our final destination, we include a tour of the castle and a farewell luncheon in the main hall. After which we say goodbye as you portal home via picture/wardrobe to your original joining point, * your mind brimming with happy memories. See you next year?
*Please note some clients may need to change at the “Wood Between the Worlds” interchange before travelling on to your original joining point. Royal Narnia Lines representatives will be on hand to safely guide you through the process.
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What do you think? Who wants to come with me?
PS: For any Narnia super fans who have stumbled upon this, it is not meant to knock or mock the series in any way, I love the work of C S Lewis too, it’s all just in fun OK?
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