#fitting that I was on to put the jellie memorial up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

Text

breakfast in bed

a/n: idk what to tell you, this is just a cute (horny) and domestic morning with matt.

warnings: matt murdock x reader, smut, established relationship, morning sex, kissing, oral, fingering, protected sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, overstimulation, idk matt being late to court

word count: 2345

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

Bright morning light streamed in through the large windows and caused your eyes to immediately squint as they began to blink open.

“Morning,” you heard your boyfriend hum, his chest vibrating underneath your cheek.

A lazy smile seeping over your features, you turned your head to squish your face further into his warm skin, “good morning,” wanting so desperately to stay here forever.

The remanence of last night’s activities still lingered between your legs as you pressed your body further into his, surely painting his thigh with the sticky memory as your left leg curled up over his. Grinding unconsciously against him in a fit of morning bliss, you turned out to be more sensitive than you had thought following the fun that had put you to sleep the previous night, your sore centre barely needing any reminding before it was trembling in want. Without even realising it, your lips began a lazy trail up Matt’s torso, the feathery touch of your adoring kisses made his hands roam down over your duvet-covered body.

“Come here,” his palm found your cheek and ushered you the rest of the way up, drawing your lips to his in a tender kiss. Feeling his fingers dip down under the covers, they curved around the plump of your ass with a needy knead on the way.

You whimpered against his tongue as his fingertips swept through your soppy petals, your head falling back a bit as your heavy lids blinked up at him. With upturned brows, you parted your legs more, granting him better access.

His strong arm, reaching down, flexing against your body and determinedly craning to reach the spots he so wished to touch, invoked a sloppy-sounding symphony that caused a soft chuckle to rumble within him in contentment.

“You hungry?” you asked shakily as a long finger methodically popped all the way in and out of your quivering hole.

His other hand buried in your hair, Matt stole another kiss before growling, “fucking starving,” clearly not talking about his desire for food.

Slowly raising yourself up on your hands and knees above his resting form, his touch never faulting, you suggested, “I could make us breakfast if you want,” your hips rocking into his touch as your body screamed for more.

A warm smile blooming at your sweet offer, “with what food in my fridge?” he pointed out the sparseness of his kitchen.

“Well, you never know,” you braced yourself against his chest as you tried to crawl over him to get up, “maybe I could whip something delicious up out of the stale takeout you undoubtedly have in there.”

“Maybe,” he drew out and craned his neck to nibble at your side, “or maybe you could just let me have a bit of breakfast in bed,” his grasp seized your form before it could disappear and flipped you further around.

“Matthew!” you shrieked, hovering a second above his face before his burly arms curled up and over your hips and drew your dripping mess down for him to have a taste, close enough for him to practically suffocate on your goodness, “you-, fuck…” your eyes quickly rolled to the back of your skull as his tongue turned your whole body into jelly atop of him.

Fingers clenching the covers that now only haphazardly covered him, like a stretching cat you reached down and palmed the excitement tenting the fluffy duvet, earning a broad smack to your bottom that made your back arch.

With the trembling of your thighs, you grew impatient and hastily reached to the bedside table, yanking the slim drawer open. Frantically, you snatched up a little foil packet and brought it to your other hand to try and rip it open.

The smooth wrapper slipping between your fingers, you grumbled, “god dammit, fuck!” and desperately brought it up between your teeth as Matt’s laughter vibrated against your clit. Finally getting it open and nearly dropping the condom in the frantic process, you pushed back the rest of the covers and let your upper body slump further down to press against his.

Teeth digging into your bottom lip, your fingers curled around your partner’s girth, your lips still too far to kiss the dewdrop at the tip away, you stuck out your tongue and just barely managed to swipe it against the raging vein snaking up from the fussy base. Quickly rolling the latex on, you slid a palm down your side till it curved over the hands still groping your behind. Lacing your fingers in his, he reluctantly let your puffy pearl go with a pop and helped rotate your form back around.

Clutching his hand tight in yours, you sank down on his length. In unison, both of you let out a needy gasp as you made your slow way down to the base, eventually bottoming out and resting there a moment, legs trembling on either side of his hips as you both reeled in the sensation.

Desperately, your hips began to roll against his, “fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned as one of his hands slid up your form and found the slope of your tit, catching the weight in his palm.

“Matt,” you moaned, your wild bedhead surrounding you like a curtain as you swore you felt a trickle of drool drip down from the corner of your parted lips, too blissed out to truly notice. Your hand flexing in his, you lifted it up to your lips and sloppily planted a kiss on the fingers encompassing yours, one of them extending a moment to stroke your cheek.

“That’s it, baby,” his left hand abandoned the jiggle of your boob and drifted down to clutch your hip, “ride it out, just like that,” he didn’t aid your movements as much as just settled into a front row seat, “nice and slow,” fingers hungrily indenting in your soft flesh.

As you sluggishly continued to bounce in his lap, a pout couldn’t help but appear on your lips as your still drowsy body just couldn’t keep up with your ambitious desires, leaving you a whining mess on top of him as your sleepy efforts just wasn’t enough.

“Matt.”

“What, sweetheart?” he chuckled at your light-hearted cry for help.

“I can’t, I’m too-…” you blubbered through your soft moans, “can you please help me?”

“Aw, you want my help?” he purred in a mocking tone, only moving to settle further down against the pillows.

“Please,” you frustratingly begged, trembling on top of him like a leaf, “I feel so useless still being half asleep.”

“Oh, I think you’re adorable like this,” his fingers ghosted over your skin, causing you to shiver.

“Matt, please. I wanna cum so bad.”

Only enjoying your sloppy efforts a second longer, he then utilised his brawny skills and flipped you over, rolling on top of you as you sank down into the mattress. Haven slipped out of your drooling cunt in the process, the vigilante wasted no time burying himself once more, thrusting up into you with such efforts that you swore you saw the stars themselves even though the sun had long ago risen.

“That better?” he asked cockily, nudging his nose against yours as his strong forearms came to rest on either side of your head, his pelvis ending each motion with a tickle at your clit.

Shakily, your limbs wrapped around his form, “f-fuck,” as his hard thrusts just about put you to sleep again with how mind-numbingly perfect they felt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he teased, bucking up into you in a way that made your body jolt, nearly pushing you far enough up for your head to collide with the wall.

“Y-y-you’re-,” the whole bedroom went fuzzy as you finally felt the end near, “holy shit!”

Attempting a chuckle through his laboured grunts, “take that as a yes,” he captured your lips again, swallowing your lewd moans and mixing them with his own.

Letting one of your hands, clutching his neck for support, snake down between your bodies, you inadvertently bit down upon Matt’s swollen bottom lip as your fingers began a fierce dance over your clit. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind as it only extracted a more guttural groan from his throat.

“Fuck, just like that, just like that,” you panted, sharing his breath as you felt yourself tumble over the edge, “don’t stop!”

Body quivering beneath his, you held onto dear life as he too rode out his high, turning your moans into screams as he only increased his pace, making you buck beneath him from the overstimulation.

Finally coming to a standstill deep within you, for a moment everything seemed perfect as you slowly crawled back from the depth with each synchronized breath.

“You know what?” you mumbled, your breath still heavy as Matt lazily planted a smattering of kisses along your jaw, “I retract my offer,” your fingers lightly traced the definitions along his spine, “I no longer have the energy to make you breakfast.”

A warm giggle bubbling out of him, “I think I’ll live,” Matt then consciously retracted from your warmth, still clenching around him and refusing to let go. With him still comfortably moulded on top of your form, you reached down and routinely tugged the spent condom off, tossing it in the nearby bin.

“I blame you, just so you know,” you joked, “if it hadn’t been for you and your-, you know, then you could have indulged in a feast worthy of a king on a weekday!”

“Then what do you call the tasty breakfast I did enjoy?” he played off your joke, making you burst out a laugh.

“Oh my god, you’re terrible,” you gushed, gazing up at him in adoration.

His expression suddenly morphing into something more sour, he muttered as realisation hit him, “weekday… wait, what time is it?”

“Um,” you located your phone in the tangled sheets, “it’s 8:14.”

“Oh shit!” he scurried out of bed and raced to the closet to yank out the very first suit his fingers grazed.

Slowly sitting up, you bit down on your smile as your eyes followed the chaotic swarm that was your boyfriend, whirling around the apartment, simultaneously scurrying to get his clothes on all the while darting from one end to the other, trying to locate every item necessary for him to be able to leave.

“Glasses, glasses…” he mumbled, head whipping around as his fingers hastily flung his tie around his neck.

Calling his attention with a soft whistle, you pointed out for him, “on the coffee table,” and promptly giggled as he raced to put them on.

“Thanks!”

“Have a great day,” you called out from the bedroom, duvet hugged tightly to your chest.

Shirt untucked, tie untied, and shoes only rashly tugged on, he sprinted out the door, only managing a rushed, “bye!” before you heard the door close behind him.

Not but two seconds after the front door slammed shut, you heard it jolt open once more.

“Did you forget something?” you asked as you watched Matt determinedly march back into the apartment. Not offering you any context, your brows only furrowed further, “Matt?”

His long strides carried him all the way back into the bedroom and without warning, bent down and scooped up your face in his palms, pressing a feverish kiss against your lips.

Sucking in a surprised breath, your fingers sprung up and tangled themselves in the loose tie hanging from his neck.

Painstakingly pulling back, Matt groaned, “you really shouldn’t be allowed to be in my bed in the morning.”

“Why?” you smiled, “is it really that bad?”

“No, it’s not,” his short nails scraped stripes along the base of your scalp, “that’s the problem,” and seized your lips once more. His tongue dancing against yours was only halted when a robotic repetition of his best friend’s name suddenly emanated from his phone.

Letting out a pained grown, he fished it out of his pocket and accepted the call, putting it on speaker before sighing, “yeah?”

“Dude, why are you not here yet?” Foggy snapped at the other end of the line, “I’m freaking out here! You’re supposed to do the opening statement!”

“I’m on my way,” he said, though didn’t move his feet even a millimetre closer towards the exit, “calm down.”

“No, you calm down!” Foggy protested as the man before you reluctantly raised one of your palms up to his lips, whispered you a hushed proclamation of love and then straightened back up, “wait,” his buddy’s tone suddenly softened, “did you just tell me that you love me? Because that won’t help your case, not today.”

“What? No!” he slowly made his way out of the bedroom.

“Really?” the man on the other end challenged, “because it sure sounded like it. Wait-, are you-, are you still at home?” prompting a soft groan to emanate from Matt, “oh my god, you are! You’re over there getting your rocks off with your girlfriend while I have to carry our entire legal firm on my own back!”

“Okay, alright,” Matt huffed on his way out of the apartment, “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

“15? It takes at least half an hour to get here from your place!”

Figuring your presents no longer was a secret, you shouted sweetly after him, “good luck in court!”

“Yeah,” you just barely heard Foggy scoff, “if he makes it in time.”

“I always make it, shut up,” he shot back before turning his attention to you one last time, “I’ll be home around 5.”

“Okay,” your body could help but crane to watch him disappear, “and, hey Matt?”

“Yeah?” he stopped right before reaching the door.

“I love you too.”

Still on the line, Foggy’s groan rang throughout the apartment, “I swear to god, Murdock, if you crawl back into bed right now and leave me to deal with this case that you convinced me we should take on, then I will fucking leave you for a position at Landman and Zack!”

#lea’s writing #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock scenario #matt murdock oneshot #matt murdock one-shot #matt murdock one shot #marvel smut #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock dialogue #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader

718 notes · View notes

onskepa · 3 months

Note

Hi!

Can we get a part 2 for fyolup? She came to visit Neteyam at the metkayina and wears bikini for swimming. Aonung seems to eye her and neteyam turns into a protective jealous bf

Oooooooooooh gotta love a jelly na'vi bf! Hope you like this one!

Fyolup pt1

-----------------

Fyolup: Eyes on me

When neteyam was told that his cute fyolup was coming with Norm to the metkayina village, he was over the moon. How he missed her so much! There was so much neteyam to tell her. What he learned, how his new life settled, but most of all, how much he has grown. And of course show off what he is capable of. Not to mention his new tattoos on his arm.

Already neteyam has things planned out for when she arrives. A full day of great activities, some including his siblings and some just for them two. Just thinking about it gets him riled up.

But also, Neteyam wonders what cute clothing fyolup would wear? Something suitable but also stylish to fit her taste. Of course, knowing her, fyolup would wear something for his eyes only and no one else.

“Neteyam!”

The sweet sound of the voice he longed to hear again called out to him. On the sandy beach, not too far from him stood was fyulop. She has grown a lot in the past few months. Wearing his favorite teal summer dress, and a bright smile on her cute face.

Unable to hold it in, neteyam makes a run for it, and so does fyulop. Meeting each other in the middle, the girl jumps into his arms as he holds her tightly as he spun her around. Loud laughter escaped their lips, wide smiles and great happiness. For fyulop, it felt so good to be back in her lover’s arms. The feel of his skin touching hers, hearing his voice again. She missed it so much.

Not putting her down, rather carrying her on his shoulder, they stare at each other's eyes and foreheads touching. “I missed you ma’sevin” neteyam whispers to her ear. Humming in agreement, she nods. “And I have missed you ma’yawne” she replies. Having not rush to go back home, neteyam takes his time to show her firstly the grand beach. Holding her tightly so that she doesn't fall, not like she will. Neteyam starts to talk, letting his mind wander on recent memories.

And fyulop is all more eager to listen.

“Neteyam, while I appreciate you looking at me for a long time, I am having self doubts now. Does it look good or not…?” Fyulop asks nervously. When she revealed her swimsuit, neteyam was in deep awestruck. He couldn't help but stare at her.

Her swimming outfit was a two piece. Strapless top with a matching bottom that was light blue with thin waving white lines. Giving the illusion of underwater lighting. To add to her personal touch, fyulop collected small shells from the beach and added it to her swimsuit. It is the little things that make things stand out more.

“I'm sorry love, it's just…oh eywa you look breathtaking” neteyam praises. Red hue colored fyulop’s cheeks. She certainly missed his praises.

Offering his hand, fyulop accepts. “Come on, there is so much I want to show you” neteyam tells her excitedly. Taking her from his family pod, he carefully leads her through the rather bouncy paths. Fyulop couldn't help but giggle as she bounces her way. It was like jumping on a trampoline!

“Here, this is an ilu, like the dire horses at home. The people here use like in similar ways” neteyam explains while gently holding his ilu. Fyulop strokes its head gently, liking the pleasing sounds. And the ilu makes a sound of happiness, nudging his head against hers.

“He likes you” neteyam comments.

“I'm glad, cause I like him too. Such an adorable cutie you are” fyulop says in her baby voice.

Not far from where they are, ao’nung, rotxo, and lo’ak were nearing the shore with their ilu’s. Ao’nung noticed the human girl, his eyes fixated on her.

“Hey lo’ak, who is that?” he asks while pointing at fyulop. Lo’ak sees where he pointing at, “oh, that is fyulop. She came with our uncle norm to visit. Don't worry, she is harmless' ' lo'ak answers. But Ao'nung still couldn't stop staring at her or her pretty smile.

“Is she single?”

“Hey fyulop, long time no see” Lo’ak welcomes the human girl with glee. Giving each other a warm hug, lo’ak joins in on whatever she and neteyam were doing. “So you are just going to ignore us lo’ak?” Rotxo teases behind the forest boy. Chuckling a bit, lo’ak shakes his head. “Right, sorry”.

Gently pushing ao’nung and rotxo in front of him, he points at who is who, “fyulop, this is ao’nung and rotxo. Guys, this is fyulop, she was born and raised here in pandora like spider” lo’ak introduces.

Fyulop giggled lightly, something that made ao’nung blush a tiny bit. Her giggles sounded so cute. He looks over and sees neteyam staring down at her with love and adoration. Crap, are they together? Hopefully not.

“Nice to meet you both. I hope you treated neteyam and his family well?” Fyulop asks. This made the boys chuckle nervously. “What? What happened? Did you guys fight each other?” Fyulop asks curiously.

“Well…you see..”

“Skxawngs. All of you. Especially you neteyam. It is much for lo’ak to start but for you to continue it?” Fyulop gently scolds the boys as they tell her about their rough start of getting along. She gently tugs neteyam’s ear while making a playful yet serious face. Neteyam couldn't help but chuckle, her fingers were to ticklish!

Ao’nung saw their interaction, feeling his tail thump against the sand rather harshly.

“Speaking of, how much has neteyam showed you of our home?” he asks, switching the subject. Fyulop took a moment to think, “so far the pods, the beach and the cute ilu’s” she replies. Ao’nung make a clicking sound, shaking his head. “Clearly he is skipping the more exciting stuff. Why not let me show you the better parts of our home?” he offers.

Fyulop gasps happily, “really?” she asks.

“Of course, what better guide than me?”

Fyulop looks up to neteyam, her eyes already asking the question. He sighs, “he is right, but still”.

Taking the chance, ao’nung gets up and gently grabs fyulop’s hand already leading her the way. As he and fyulop began to chat, neteyam, lo’ak and rotxo looked at ao’nung with a surprised expression on their faces.

“Oh no he didn't”

“Oh yes he did”

“And here is where we mostly trade things. Fish for beads, seaweed for grains, just about anything. There is something for everyone” Ao’nung shows fyulop the common areas that the na’vi spend their time. He showed her all the best places, ao’nung was pretty proud and a bit smug too. Getting cute reactions from fyulop was a treat. Even better to see neteyam fuming behind them.

Fyulop was enjoying sightseeing. The metkayina was so vastly different from the omatikaya! From how they look, to their ways, culture and style of clothing. Already fyulop had ideas of creating ocean inspired clothing. Maybe style it similar to how the metkayina do.

Neteyam on the other hand did not enjoy it. Nope. Not one bit.

If looks could kill, ao’nung would be deep in the belly of an akula.

Ao’nung had the sheer balls to not only touch fyulop but also hug her! Fyulop’s hugs are exclusive to neteyam only! Ok maybe his siblings too but mostly him! And too see that puny fishy skxawng touching his beloved made his anger rise deep within.

And poor fyulop, took caught up in the new experiences didn't notice what fishlips was clearing trying to do.

Well, as her boyfriend and protector, neteyam knows what slimy things that fishy na’vi prince can do.

If ao’nung knew just how easy it was to sway fyulop to trust him, he would have done it on the spot! Fyulop is just so cute and her clothing suits her figure. Actually, speaking of her clothing.

Ao’nung haven't really seen much of how humans dress. So to see this human girl dress in a certain way excites him. There is a lot to learn and see something new within fyulop and hopefully be closer to her.

However, as days pass, almost as if on purpose, ao’nung takes fyulop’s time most of the day. Taking her wherever he wants, personally teaches her many things neteyam wanted to show her, among other things. And would shove the poor forest boy to the side. Giving no room for neteyam to intervene.

And it was pissing neteyam off.

Having enough of it, he did the only thing he knew best.

“You know fyulop, you interest me a lot. It would be nice if you stayed longer. Spending time with you has been a lot of fun” Ao’nung tells fyulop. Together they walk across the sandy shores, the small waves of the sea barely touching their feet.

“It certainly has been a lot of fun. And while living here seems like a good idea, I worry for neteyam. He already has enough stuff to worry about”

Ao’nung makes an annoyed sigh. “I doubt that. But either way, at least think it over. We could have a lot more fun. Together”. He holds fyulop’s hands into his larger ones. Making eye contact and hopefully what he is trying to do works.

Only it didn't.

Fyulop was gently yanked back by an angry neteyam.

“I think you had enough time with her,” Neteyam says. Trying his best not to hiss at ao’nung. But the reef prince scoffs a bit smugly. “And who are you to choose for her? She can do what she wants”.

“You’re absolutely right ao’nung” Fyulop agrees.

The boy smirks at neteyam who only glares harder.

“That means I can do this”

With a gentle yet quick yank from his necklace, neteyam was yanked down and was given the most passionate kiss ever.

Fyulop was kissing him as if to prove something. And boy did neteyam enjoyed it. With zero hesitation, neteyam kisses back, laughing on the inside. If he were to have a fourth finger right now, he would be flipping it in ao’nungs face.

“And, what I want to do is spend my time with my sweet neteyam. Thank you ao’nung for showing me, but I think neteyam can take it from here” fyulop says with a not so innocent smile.

Ao’nung was shocked, flabbergasted, speechless, and everything else. Damn it.

“You heard her skxawng” Neteyam says with a victorious smirk on his face. Clicking his tongue, ao’nung leaves in defeat.

With a happy cheer, neteyam picks up his love and spins her around.

“You were so jealous~” the girl teases as she boops his nose. But neteyam caught her finger, gently nibbling it. “And you watched me. Didn't do anything to ease my heart” neteyam accuses. This made fyulop stroke his ears as she leans closer and asks in a cooing manner, “Than what can I do to ease your jealous heart?”

He grins and replies “you know what”

Aaaaaaaand that is it for this one! Was cute to write. Until next time! See ya!

#avatar #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi avatar #avatar 2 #na'vi x human #neteyam sully #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x oc #ao'nung x fem!reader #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung x you #avatar james cameron

184 notes · View notes

pablitosgf · 6 months

Text

always ! — cl16

pairings ! — charles leclerc x fem!ex!reader

warnings ! — heart break, mentions of cheating, and thats it (i think).

info ! — in which you learn the reason why y/n hates the word, "always."

authors note ! — inspired from always - daniel caesar, if you can see there are some connections to the lyrics and the events with y/n… <3

format ! — writing

Always. A word you despised, a word you hated with all your heart. It made your heart go cold and your whole body go numb. No matter the use of the word it brought you back to memories you tried to stored deep within your brain. In a chest, in fact, you tried to keep it locked but somehow it let it's way out with the word “always” and you hated how such a word could have a huge effect on you. A word so simple, yet so heartbreaking for someone like you.

Always used to be a word you loved though. A word that made your heart melt instead of break into tiny fragments like it did now. Such a word had a huge effect on you, not a bad one, but a good one back then. The promises from him included always every single time. To which you would interlock your pinky with his and repeat the word again. Thinking of it now made you break and turn into a crying fit. It was embarrassing, to say the least. Everything reminded you of him, but that word especially did.

To put it into simple terms you hated that word because he made broken promises. People constantly say, “Promises are meant to be broken.” but you disagreed with that. You hated broken promises. Even he knew, yet he decided to break those promises. He’d say things like:

“We’ll always be each other’s forever.”

“You’ll always be mine, even until the end of time.”

“Always.”

“We’re like peanut butter and jelly, we always go together.”

Thinking about those caused a stinging effect on your poor broken heart. But you could never hate him, you’ve loved him for years. The sight of him makes your heart leap but also break into a million more pieces. You could never forget the night it all happened, the night when “always” became the word you hated, the night when all the promises he made for years were broken, the night when he wasn't your always and forever anymore.

“Hi mon amour,” you said shakily as if you were about to cry any second. You knew what was about to happen, but tried your best to remain as positive as you could, so you swallowed up those tears and put on a wonky, lopsided smile. You always thought negatively of everything and he knew that. So, when you received the text of him wanting to talk to you after you got off work you assumed the worst. “You asked if we could talk?”

He looked down at the ground, not bothering to meet your eyes that were filled with love, nervousness, and scariness. Your heart was beating out of your chest. The uneasy smile on your face faltered as he still refused to make eye contact. What went wrong? That was the only question left in your head.

After a few minutes of deafening silence looming over the two of you, he finally said the words you knew he was going to say.

“I want to breakup.”

You answered by giving him a nod as tears threatened to leave your eyes, your vision had gotten blurry due to the amount of tears building up over the past few minutes. You couldn't even fight back and be stubborn to have him stay. Future you wished you had, because six months later you hadn't been over him. A decade's worth of your life thrown into the trash. You sat there as he left the shared apartment you had with him in Monaco. All you wanted to do was cry till you couldn't.

You had no why. He didn't give any closure to you, even after six months. Every day since that day you rotted in your bed crying until you were tired and couldn't anymore. This was the first heartbreak you’ve ever experienced, and you hoped this would never happen. Because at that time you thought he was your forever and always and you were his. Even after six months, you thought there was still a possibility, you still had hope he’d return to you because you would with open arms.

In the closet, you both used to share you still kept his part empty, so whenever he came back he could fill it back up with his clothes which you’d steal every day. And in the bathrooms where you still had the brush holder near the second sink, but with no toothbrush. You’d always stare through the mirror where he would be, happily brushing his teeth with a smile on his face waiting to kiss you because you didn't want to kiss him with morning breath. You kept the left side of the bed empty for him because it was the side closest to the door and he wanted to protect you in case there was any intruder. Even after six months, half a year, you still kept it that way. He moved on while you didn't.

And you remembered that day vividly.

You finally had the will to go out and have brunch, it was a one-on-one with Lily. She was one of your best friends and you’d say she’s the WAG you were the closest with. Lily and you instantly clicked when you first met. She would do anything for you and you knew it with all your heart. And you would do anything for her.

So when she whizzed her head around, looking back at you with wide eyes she quickly tried to hide you were confused. Her eyes were filled with panic and distress, you wanted to find out why. You looked behind her to find out but she kept blocking your view, and to be honest, she looked ridiculous, to say the least.

“Stop moving your head, I want to see.”

“Y/n, trust me you don't want to.”

“Lily, I don't care.”

And you wished you didn't. You saw him there with a girl, she looked very familiar to you. Then it clicked, she was the girl he told you not to worry about, and right there you were questioning his fidelity. Question if you had been cheated on all this time. And if so for how long? Just when you thought you were doing well it all fell down, all your hard work, and your progress went back to 0%. A look of pity washed through Lily’s face and you hated it. She was trying to protect you, and you hated how stubborn you were. You wished you listened. Tears welled in your eyes just like that day, you mumbled, “I wanna go home.”

Lily nodded as she went to pay for the barely eaten food then the two of you left the restaurant. You wondered if he saw you, probably not though. He seemed to be focused on his new girl. All your friends expected you to hate him after this, but you couldn't. You dated that man for twelve years and loved him since you were little.

Even after that you still kept the right side of the bed instead of the left, left the abandoned toothbrush holder, and left the his side of the closet empty. You couldn't move on to another chapter of your life. But you had to. Though, deep in your heart you still had a spot filled with love for him. Forever and…

yourusername

liked by lilymhe and 673,924 others

yourusername you said always, what happened?

view all 328 comments

lilymhe i love you so much strong girl 🩷

⤷ love u more 💕

heidiberger_ i'll be here for you forever 🫶🏼

⤷ heidi 🥹

user1 we all know who quotes are about… 😕

user2 and the caption!! 🥹🥹🥹

204 notes · View notes

quibbs126 · 3 months

Text

So I got around to redesigning Charcoal Cheese (yet again failing at not doing my designs, but I have been thinking about him and how to change him, so it’s not that bad)

For those that don’t remember the original (because it was almost a year ago), I’ll link it, but also I’ll just put a picture here

I had to redo him because the Golden Cheese update came out and the whole “kingdom being destroyed and everyone dying” thing kind of messed with things. Also he was basically like a gatekeeper for the kingdom, which is literally Burnt Cheese

But his new backstory is that he survived the destruction of the Golden Cheese Kingdom as a child, having been able to successfully flee, but he never returned to the ruins because he was terrified the monsters were still there, and so Golden Cheese thought he died, but couldn’t find his body to upload to the Golden City. Meanwhile Charcoal Cheese got amnesia, either from an injury or just repressed memories, and so he just lives in and wanders around the Parmesan Desert, and he just has a feeling to avoid the Golden Cheese Kingdom ruins. Also in his time he’s learned how to ride the Sand Jelly Worms and successfully avoid them

Meanwhile Dark Cacao has no clue about any of this and has just been assuming that Charcoal Cheese has been living fine with his mother. Yes he’s somewhat concerned that he’s not heard anything from his son since he was a child, but he doesn’t know where Golden Cheese has gone to anyways and is just hoping the best

I was originally gonna make his new backstory that he died but not all of his body parts could be found, so instead he’s just a ghost that wanders both the desert and the Golden City and Golden Cheese has no clue what’s happening. But I was struggling with trying to figure out a design and how his age works, until I got the new idea. Now he’s old

He’s still a bit of a prideful ass, but he also helps travelers avoid the worms and warns them of the ruins. Just don’t stroke his ego

That was quite a bit on backstory, but I have thoughts on him, alright?

Well then on to design. Not explaining the name because I did that in the original

I wanted to keep his little beard because he’s like one of the only ones with facial hair. Maybe I could have made it more though

I also changed his face markings because the original got mistaken for eye bags. Also it’s a purple diamond like his dad

His cloak was originally going to be brown, but I changed it to black because I thought it fit more with charcoal cheddar being mostly black. Also it means cool contrast with the inner part of the cloak (maybe he reverses it based on time of day)

I wasn’t planning on giving him gold stuff, since he’s supposed to be a desert hobo, but I ended up giving him some anyways. I guess it’s the dormant Golden Cheese itch for gold

Also this doesn’t have to do with the design process, but looking at the two designs side by side, you can really see the evolution of my Cookie Run style, and I’m kind of proud of that

But yeah, that’s about it for Charcoal Cheese, I hope you like his new look!

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #golden cheese cookie #dark cacao cookie #goldencacao #cookie run oc #fankid #fanchild #charcoal cheese cookie #redesign #my ocs #my art

76 notes · View notes

lou-struck · 9 months

Text

The Perfect One

Shinsuke Kita x reader

~You visit Kita at his Farmers Market booth and realize that he has closed up early to run an important errand.

WC: 1.6k

The market hasn’t even been open for thirty minutes, but already the streets are packed full of cars; your eyes scan the packed street, searching for even the tightest parking spot.

Today you plan to surprise your boyfriend at his farmer’s market stand, give him some much-needed quality time, and take him out for a lunch date after he closes up shop, Which, according to your calculations, should be selling out in an hour or so…

Shinsuke Kita’s Rice stand is one of the most popular booths due to the high quality of his product and the fact that most vendors and patrons have fallen head over heels for the handsome rice farmer.

And how could they not?

Shinsuke’s honest charm and hardworking demeanor are enough to make anyone fall in love with him. But out of everyone, he chooses to be with you because he loves you just as much as you love him.

And this silly feeling called love is what compelled you to wake up early on a Saturday morning fueled with nothing but the promise of a large cup of coffee and some freshly baked scones with raspberry jelly once you find him.

Your car creeps through the street at a snail’s pace as you spot a light blue truck pulling out from a parking spot on the corner. As you approach, you notice that it looks like a tight fit, but you squeeze into it the best you can. Pulling forward, you hear the overly dramatic sound of your front bumper hitting the curb, but as you reverse slightly and put the car in the park, you shake it off, slipping out of the driver’s seat and onto the pavement.

Rays of sun hit your skin through the layer of cloudy overcast as you walk, making the short trip to the center of the market rather pleasant as you pass people carrying baskets overflowing with fresh produce, baked goods, handcrafted soaps, and other goods.

Stands to sparkle with racks of handmade jewelry and blown glass trinkets that vie for your attention as you walk; if you haven’t been here before, you would’ve lost yourself amongst the crowd, but luckily, you know your way around fairly well by now.

As you get closer to your boyfriend’s usual spot, a few produce vendors you recognize from the weeks before. Despite the many customers at their stalls, they still give you a friendly wave as you walk; off in the distance, you see the edge of the hand-painted sign outside of Shinsuke’s booth, the sign the two of your painted together months ago.

Memories of that wine-stained night bring a giddy smile to your chapstick lips as you quicken your pace, springing over a spilled cone of shaved ice that someone must’ve just dropped.

You creep slowly around the corner, ready to scare. Instead of his soft smile and strong form, behind the register rests a generic sign.

Be back in 30 minutes…

That’s strange; even with his cashbox secured, Kita would never just leave his booth unattended for such a long time. You can’t help but wonder where he has gone.

Is he not feeling well?

Is he in the bathroom?

Whatever the answer may be, you choose to go sit at his stall to watch it until he gets back. You would hate for someone to try and steal things from him.

The next stand over, a friendly older woman peeks out from behind a massive pile of unshucked corn on the cob and gives you the warmest smile you have received all week. She is a longtime friend of Kita’s grandmother and almost always slips you one of her homemade apple tarts. Her floppy sun hat protects her lovingly aged skin from the harsh rays of the overcast sky.

“Oh, hello, My Dear,” she calls in her soft voice. “What brings you to the market so early?”

“Good morning,” you smile, watching fondly as her little leopard-printed cane carries her closer to you. I came to surprise Shinsuke, but it seems he went off somewhere.”

“Oh, don’t worry about him, Dear; he’ll be right back.” she laughs. There is a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she looks at you. “But I told that sweet boy I would watch his stall.”

“An errand?” you ask. “Is he feeling alright? It is so unlike him to just leave the stall”.

She just smiles knowingly. “He is just fine dear, but if you would like to check on him, head to the stalls near the main street while I hold down the fort.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” you smile. “I’ll head over there now.” With a final wave, you turn the corner and leave the stall in her capable hands.

It’s only a quick walk to the main street, but the cluster of booths is different from the usual produce stalls you are familiar with. It only takes a little sniff of the fresh air to figure out that Main Street is where all the flower vendors set up shop to sell their wonderfully constructed bouquets of flowers. Sunflowers, lilts, Peonies, and Daisies galore in every color you can think of rest in large buckets of water reaching upwards toward the light.

You wander past each stall, enchanted by the sweet smells and vibrant petals, until you hear a familiar voice speaking to one of the vendors.

“Thank you for taking the time to help me out with this. All of these are breathtaking, but I want to find the right one.” Your boyfriend says, aching down and smelling a large pink Lilly.

“Is there a particular combination you are looking for?” the vendor says, a light pink blush on their cheeks, no doubt having fallen victim to his natural charm.

“Not a combination in general; I just want a Bouquet that looks like them.” he hums, placing his hand under his chin in thought.

The vendor turns their head to the side. “How so?”

“The peonies with the iris are so fun and vibrant, just like Y/n, but then the Tulips with eucalyptus, baby’s breath, and Callalilles look so elegant and beautiful it makes me wonder if they could see themselves in those as well.”

“Young man, if everyone put as much thought into a bouquet of flowers as you did, the would be a much better place,” they say honestly. “I am sure whatever one you choose, your partner will love, especially with you being such a romantic.”

“I don’t know if I would consider myself a romantic; I just want y/n to have a nice bouquet of flowers today,” he says simply. Even though he has his back to you, you see the way the back of his neck flushes at the vendor’s words.

Is he really putting all this thought into a bouquet for you?

A part of you feels guilty for eavesdropping on him, but really, your heart is fluttering out of control at such a romantic gesture. You turn your back and dart quickly behind a tent that shields you from his view.

Just as you think you are in the clear, you hear a pleasant voice call out from behind out. “It looks like you caught me.” Your breath hitches; Kita has always been too good at picking up those little details, especially when it comes to you.

“I-i’m sorry,’ you stammer, turning around to face him, “I just wanted to surprise you, and I ended up ruining yours.”

His coffee-colored gaze softens as he takes in every inch of your flustered features as if they were a work of art. “You didn’t ruin anything, quite the opposite, actually.”

You blink as you take in his words; how exactly is you ruining his floral surprise a good thing?

“How so?”

He chuckles to himself, “Because now we can pick out the flowers together.” He says it so simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your knees feel weak as he continues, “I want to know what you like so that I can surprise you in the future. You deserve a life full of happy surprises.”

Boom, there goes your heart, and blood rushes to your cheeks so quickly that your hands fly to cover your face from the world.

“Flustered, are we?” he laughs softly, removing your hands from your face and tilting up your chin with the utmost care.

Playfully you stick your tongue out at him with an endearing boldness, “Sometimes I think you’re too good at this. Is there someone else you practice on?”

He rolls his eyes as a characteristic snort escapes his lips. “Only you, My Love. Do I need to prove it to you?”

“Absolutely,” you tease, letting your gaze fall from his sparkling eyes and onto his soft lips. They curve upward knowingly before they meet yours in a tender kiss. He holds you gently as if you are one of the many flowers in the surrounding booths.

You’re breathless, but you want more; Kita’s touch, combined with the sweet floral fragrance, is dizzying and makes you forget about the hundreds of people passing by on the other side of the tented wall.

He pulls away with a tenderness that makes you feel like you are falling in love over and over again. The sweetest look in his eyes as he guides you back towards the flower stalls and the rows and rows of bouquets, so that the two of you can pick out the perfect one together.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kita hq #shinsuke kita x reader #shinsuke kita #kita x reader #kita haikyuu #kita shinsuke #kita scenarios #kita fluff #haikyuu fluff

134 notes · View notes

filmtv2022 · 2 months

Text

Moving Forward: Chapter Five (18+ MDNI)

Previous Next Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Kazansky!Reader

Synopsis: Returning to work, Y/N finds herself continuing to struggle with her past while trying to forge a path beyond her mistakes. Y/N tries to open up to Rooster, taking her father's advice to heart. Still, her injuries (physical and emotional) along with the weight of keeping the family together during this trying time are more than she can handle alone. Seeing her pain, Rooster steps back into the fray and tries to soothe the hurt however he can.

Warnings: Language + talk of illness + spicy behavior (not full-on smut yet... but soon)

A/N: This is a longer one, but I hope it will be worth it. As always, I apologize for any mistakes, and I hope that you enjoy it! Also if you feel so inclined to comment and/or reblog... that would be incredible!

----------------------------------------

The tremble in your limbs remained as the crushing weight of anticipated grief settled over you. With the thick blanket of night closing in like a vice, you gave up any hope of rest and peeled yourself out of bed. The floor creaked as you moved through the darkness and into the living room. Curling up on the couch, you tugged at the heavy blanket from the back and spread it over your body. The glow of the moon lit the space in shades of gray. Focusing on the monochromatic tones, your senses dulled, but it wasn’t enough to slip into a peaceful sleep. Hours moved by unnoticed until the blaring ring of your alarm announced a new day.

Thankfully, the rest of the family was still asleep as you carefully snuck around the house. Grabbing only what you needed for the day, you moved on to taking care of school lunches. One by one, you slathered peanut butter and jelly on bread before plopping them inside the row of lunch boxes on the counter. Next came the snacks. The pickings were slim, but you made do with what remained of the previous week’s groceries and made a note to stop by the store soon. Satisfied that things were as taken care of as possible, you scratched a quick note for your mom and headed out the door.

The drive to work was guided by sheer muscle memory as no amount of sunlight could sweep away the suffocating hold of anxiety. There had been no sleep to speak of beyond fitful dreams. Exhausted, you hopped off your bike and hoisted your bag over your shoulders. Inside, the locker room was quiet. Your early start put you slightly ahead of the others, but the peaceful silence didn’t last. Getting out of your civilian clothes, you donned your flight suit without joining the rest in polite conversation. You knew that your lack of social graces, and the way you’d lost it yesterday had made a terrible impression, but you didn’t have the energy to give a shit. Everyone else went about their business as if you weren’t there, which was a blessing in and of itself.

Tying the half-zippered suit around your waist by the arms, you finally finished getting ready. Slipping out, you headed to the ready room for the pre-flight briefing. An empty seat near the window called your name and you slumped back into it. The rowdy noise slowly built as the group made their way inside. They found places to sit, and their choices mirrored almost exactly where they’d been yesterday.

Staring at the buzz of activity already forming on the tarmac, sudden movement from the corner of your eye brought your attention back into the room. Rooster stood hesitantly next to the open spot, a cup of coffee in each hand. Looking up at him, you said nothing. Instead, you allowed yourself to meet his eyes. They warmed to a golden hue in the morning light. There was something unsettled there, a sadness that left you even more uncertain.

“Can I sit?” he asked without making a move.

Shrugging, you answered quietly, “It’s all yours.”

Folding his large frame into the space beside you, his knee knocked against yours. Mumbling an apology for the intrusion, he held out one of the styrofoam cups and spoke, “Here ya go…” When you failed to move he continued, “It’s for you. I thought you might need it.”

Reluctantly, you took it from him, “Thanks," A flat smile pulled at your lips as you brought the cup up to slowly sip the scalding beverage. The heat soothed your throat which was raw from the previous night’s flurry of emotions. Wrapping your hands around the cup, you let the temperature seep into your skin.

“No problem,” his eyes roved over your body, studying you in great detail. The weight of it forced your lungs into heavy slow breaths.

Turning away to avoid his stare, you could feel Bradley’s focus on you as you drank. Jake’s voice boomed from the other side of the room as he cracked jokes with Coyote and anyone else willing to listen to him this early in the morning. Thankfully, he'd also ignored your presence since walking into the room. You knew it wouldn’t last forever, but you’d take any reprieve you could get.

Shifting in your seat to get a better view of the screen at the front of the room, the tight muscles in your hip and side twisted into a deep spasm. The charley horse stole the wind from your lungs with its fierce writhing. Sucking air in through your teeth you grimaced and groaned as you tried to relax through the pain. Throwing your head back, it thumped lightly against the padded rest.

Not wanting to draw attention to what was going on, but worried just the same, Bradley shifted in his seat so that his broad frame blocked most of what was going on from the view of others, and asked “Y/n, what’s going on?”

Grumbling, you snapped back as best you could, “I’m fine, Bradley.”

Seeing your lie for what it was, he dove into quiet action. Reaching for your coffee he took it from your grip and placed it clumsily on the ledge nearby. With both hands free, you gripped the armrest with one while rubbing gentle circles on the tight muscles with the other. Your eyes squeezed shut blocking out the rest of the room as you worked through it and focused on breathing.

“Here, let me,” pressing into your space, Bradley’s warm palm gingerly moved your hand out of the way and replaced it with his own. Resting his free arm along the headrest of your chair, he leaned further into you as he worked. The woodsy scent of his cologne wrapped around you in a comforting blanket.

A hiss tore through your lips as the spasm clenched tighter, “Shit.”

“It’s okay, just breathe,” knowing you needed more, but unsure how to provide it, Bradley acted out of instinct. His strong fingers slipped under the exposed hem of your shirt, pushing it out of the way. The rough drag of his callouses along your sensitive skin was intoxicating, but it was the heat that rolled off of him that finally did the trick.

Skin on skin, Bradley pushed deep into the knots that sat just below the surface. The relief wasn’t quick to come, but slowly the tension released under his caring touch. With your eyes still shut, he watched carefully, paying attention to the way your shoulders moved as you fought through the last of the spasms. Finally, able to open your eyes, you blinked away the new waves of exhaustion.

Looking up at Bradley, you whispered tiredly, “I’m sorry.”

“For this? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Y/N.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” catching his eyes, your nerves hummed with the sensation of his hand still gently working over your skin. His movements were softer now, no longer meant to relieve physical pain but to keep you close. Something that the pair of you missed more than you cared to acknowledge.

Realization hit in full force for Bradley stunning him into momentary silence, collecting his thoughts he knew he had to say something, “You’re not the one who should be apologizing.”

Your stomach fluttered, being here with him… like this… was too much. The memories of the past forced you to sit up in your seat and break away from him. Bradley’s touch fell away as you turned to face the screen again. Maverick already stood at the podium ready to commence the meeting, but his attention was focused on the pair of you. His expression was nearly unreadable, but it was obvious that he’d seen more of what had happened than you’d have cared for him to.

With the rest of the room ready to go, Mav launched into the parameters for today’s flights. The meeting lasted only as long as necessary. Bless your captain for not bothering with useless fluff. With the necessary information in hand, Hondo stepped in and called the first few teams going up.

“First up, we’ve Hangman and Rooster. Followed by….” the rest of his words dropped off as bile sloshed in your gut at the thought of those two in the air together. Twisting to look at Bradley your eyes dropped to the thin white scars that decorated his neck and cheek. Clenching his jaw, Rooster rolled his neck to relieve the tension that formed at the sound of Hangman’s callsign.

“Be careful with him, Rooster. He’s-”

“I know what he’s like, Y/N.”

Nodding your head in acknowledgment, you stopped talking and listened to the flare of noise as your fellow aviators piled out of their chairs. Some were headed out to do pre-flight checks, while others gathered around the coffee pot to pour themselves another shot of caffeine. Chatting with each other, Phoenix and Bob threw tentative smiles in your direction as they passed you and Bradley. Jake's heavy footfalls came closer as he followed Javy toward the door. He’d just reached you when he finally opened his mouth.

“So, Riot how’s that leg treatin’ ya today?”

“I’m right as the rain, Seresin.”

“Is that by the Navy’s standards or your dad’s?” He grinned from ear to ear as he looked between you and Bradley.

“What the fuck do you mean, Bagman?”

“Well, it's just that everyone knows the Admiral’s got a soft spot for hopeless cases. I mean look at you two. A bird who can’t get up off his perch and a broken pilot whose ledger is wildly red. Maybe the old man’s judgment just isn’t what it used to be, but hey, what do I know?”

Standing to meet him, you opened your mouth to speak, but Bradley beat you to it before you could utter a word. Rising firmly between you and Hangman, he came face to face with the other pilot, “You better shut your fucking mouth, Seresin. And you’d do well to remember who you’re talking about. Admiral Kazansky is your superior, and the only damn reason you’re here. I suggest you move along now.”

“Whatever you say, Chicken Little. Anyway… I’ve got a mission to attend to, you’re welcome to join… if you can keep up.” Scrunching his nose, Jake simply smirked and walked away leaving you and Rooster behind to process what had just happened.

Turning back to face you, Bradley’s words caught like barbed wire in his throat at the sight of the tears that welled in your eyes. He took a small step in your direction, his hand raised for a moment as if he was going to touch you, but thought better of it. Collecting himself, he spoke, “He’s not worth crying over, Y/N.”

“They’re not for him.” your voice was thick with emotion. Frustration flushed your cheeks, and you moved away. Wandering over to Hondo who stood in the doorway, you checked your flight partners for the day. By the mercy of god, and probably your father and Mav, you weren’t slated to go with Hangman or Rooster.

Meandering away toward the small group that remained, you tried to refocus yourself on the task at hand. Today’s flights were still focused on dogfighting techniques. The hope was to figure out who possessed the calm, cool, and collected demeanor to handle the pressure of the mission while also evading any obstacles that stood in the way. On the surface, this was your bread and butter. This was where you excelled, but the minefield occupying your thoughts proved more difficult to set aside than you’d hoped.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Without Rooster, the room seemed empty even though it was brimming with people. Trying to shake your mind out of the spiral it was caught in, you did your best to engage in light conversation with the rest of the crew as you crowded around the pool table. The radio garbled to life as Maverick, Rooster, and Hangman took off for their run. Standing steady, you listened closely as Hangman wasted no time in his attempt to get under Bradley’s skin.

“So Rooster, mind if ask you a personal question?”

“Would it matter if I did?”

“What’s the story with you and Maverick? Or better yet, what the hell’s goin’ on between you and Riot? A little lover’s, I mean… ex-lovers, quarrel? Whatever it is, they’ve got your feathers ruffled don’t they Rooster?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Oh come on now, admit it, she’s got a mouth on her,” he stopped for a second, giving Rooster time to fume before bouldering on, “It’s not so bad though… when she puts it to good use.”

“Fuck off, Bagman. Now where the hell is he?”

“Been here the whole time.”

“Holy shit.”

“You see me now? Come on let’s get it over with.”

“Fight’s on.”

“What is with these two?”

Clinging to every word as it came over the radio, the rest of the world fell out of focus. Bradley and Mav were locked in a nasty spiral, the hard deck looming ever closer as the pilots fought for dominance and control. With almost nothing left between him and the solid ground below, Rooster was forced to pull up. The maneuver set him up to take the shot at Mav, but he hesitated, not wanting to risk dropping down further to line up with the captain. Lightening quick Maverick took advantage of this lapse, and repositioned himself behind Rooster. And that was that... another “kill” for Pete and another 200 push-ups for Bradley. The outcome was not entirely unexpected, but your physical reaction to it caught you off guard. Your hands shook as you grabbed your helmet and practically jogged down to the tarmac. Rage and worry in equal parts flooded your body as you waited for Rooster to land.

Not wanting to lose control of yourself like the previous day, you waited until the shakes had dissipated before heading outside, but it did nothing for the rest of the emotions. Anxiety coursed through you, the fuzzy edges of it left your limbs feeling heavy as you forced your way outside. In the distance, you could see Hondo standing beside Rooster who was working his way through another grueling set of push-ups. Even though you knew that Bradley was nowhere near done, Hondo stepped away and started the walk back toward the building.

Striding out, you closed the last few paces as Bradley collapsed out of the push-ups and sat sweating on the ground. You didn’t wait for him to notice your presence before you shouted.

“Breaking the hard deck, insubordination. Are you trying to get kicked out?”

“Don’t worry about it,” his eyes remained glued to his boots

“Look, I don’t know how all of this is going to turn out, but if you get kicked out, you leave us flying with Hangman. Talk to me. What the hell was that?”

The irony of this conversation wasn’t lost on you. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since Bradley had cornered you in the locker room and asked much the same questions. And yet, here you were, begging and desperate to know.

“You already know what it’s about.”

Stunned, you couldn’t quite believe it was true, “Come on, this can’t still be about the papers. Bradley that was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, it was. And it set my career back four years, Y/N. You have no idea what it was like to watch you...” He choked on the rest of his thought, and instead of speaking, he turned his head to look off at the sun.

Taking another step, you knelt by his side, “You’re right, I don’t know, and I’ll never know unless you talk to me.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“I’m trying, okay. I don’t know what more you want from me.”

“I don’t want anything from you, Riot.”

“Whatever you say, Rooster.”

Standing up, you left Bradley alone on the ground. You were next on the rotation, so rather than return inside, you made your way toward the crew that was forming around your jet. With the same practiced routine as always, you climbed inside and prepared yourself. Despite the earlier flare-up and the fatigue, your mind was finally lasered focused on the task at hand.

Flying with Payback and Fanboy, the run was less eventful in a good way. Maverick though, was in rare form. He threw every trick in the book your way, and no amount of clever maneuvering was going to be enough to outwit him. Each move was calculated and precise. He was pushing hard, trying to throw you off. For a while, things were looking good for you and your team until Mav pulled out the same cobra move that’d earned you a victory the day before. This time he placed himself strategically behind you. The telltale whine of his target locked on yours sent you cursing under your breath.

Landing, you quickly exited your jet and made your way back to nearly the same spot Bradley had occupied before. He was no longer there, but one by one you performed your push-ups. The ache of your arms and abs took over your mind and pushed out any lingering thoughts of the morning. Payback and Fanboy weren’t far behind. They joined you in the grind, their heavy breathing was the only noise that passed between the three of you.

Hondo counted each rep, never letting up on the pace. Just when you thought your body would give out, he called the last one.

“200. That’s it. You’re all free to head back inside.”

Nodding, the three of you peeled yourselves off the ground and walked back toward the building. Air conditioning poured out the door as Fanboy pushed it open. Sighing, you relished the chilled air as goosebumps ran over your skin. The boys were a few feet ahead of you, but the sound of your voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Hey guys,” you cleared your throat lightly before continuing, “Nice job up there today. We’ll get him next time.”

“Thanks, Riot. You too.” Mickey smiled back at you, his eyes bright and clear, “Oh uhh, we’re..uhh… we’re all headed to the Hard Deck tonight. You should come.”

“Oh, uhh… I don’t know… I’ve got-”

Payback halted your stumbling words with his own, “Just think about it, okay?”

“Yeah, you deserve a drink after putting up with Hangman’s bullshit. You handled that better than I would’ve,” Fanboy laughed lightly, the gentleness of it lightened the mood considerably.

“I don’t drink anymore, and I really don’t know if I’d called what happened yesterday handling it well, but I.. I’ll think about it.”

“No worries. The offer’s always there.” Payback grinned as he held open the ready room’s door for you and Mickey.

---------------------------------------

The rest of the flights went off without a hitch. With the day over, the debrief took longer than expected, and by the time you were free to leave it was getting rather late. The rest of the crew chatted loudly as they discussed the evening’s plans. Your phone vibrated obnoxiously on the wood bench beside you. Jamming your feet into your boots, you slid out of the fray, taking your cell phone and your bags with you. Free of the noise, you answered the call.

“Hey, mom. What’s up?”

“Hey, Y/N. Are you on your way home?”

“Yeah, I’m just headed out now. Do you want me to pick up a pizza or something for dinner? I’ll make a list and head to the store tomorrow.”

“That’s okay, I just…” Sarah grew quiet on the other end as barking coughs could be heard in the background through the speaker.

“Is everything all right?”

“Umm, today’s been a bad day sweetie. I’m sorry to ask, but I could really use some help with the littles.”

Swallowing hard, you replied, “Yeah, of course. I’ll be home soon. You just take care of Dad, I’ll get the rest. Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“No, we’re good sweetheart. You just drive safe, okay.”

“Okay. Love you mom, see ya soon.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

Ending the call you stepped outside into the tepid evening air, and quickly got yourself on the road toward home. A sinking feeling churned the empty pit of your stomach all the way, but there was no avoiding the difficulties that sat ahead.

----------------------------------

The inside of the Kazansky household was decently in control, at least given the circumstances. The littles were running wild in the backyard, probably ruining the entire purpose of their pre-dinner baths and showers, but it was okay. A little dirt never hurt anyone, and given the impending situation, their joyful screams and laughter echoing through the open door were soothing to the soul. A spicy scent filled the air as you stood at the stove stirring the taco meat in the pan. The older siblings were in a variety of places around the living room. One folded the pile of freshly washed clothes you’d sat down in front of them about 15 minutes earlier while the others sat on the couch trying their best to avoid helping with chores by “doing their homework”.

It took only a few more minutes to finish up dinner and lay out all of the toppings. Gathering up your siblings you let them start while you work up the courage to go find your mom. Quietly, you made your way to the master bedroom. The door was cracked slightly, and the soft sound of her voice could be heard the closer you got. Your faint knocks were enough for her to invite you inside.

“Come in.”

Plastering a smile on your face, you pushed open the door, and immediately focused on your mom, “The tacos are ready. You want me to make you a plate?”

Sarah glanced hesitantly at Ice who was currently sitting up in bed next to her. His face was drawn, and the dark circles beneath his eyes were a deep purple, “That’s okay, I’ll come down later.”

“Okay. I’ll wrap up some for you.”

The plush carpet squished between your toes as you crossed the room. Standing at the side of the bed, you leaned down and placed a kiss on the side of your mom’s head before moving to the other side to do the same to your father. Catching your wrist in his hand, Ice held you in place before pulling you in for a hug. There were no words tonight, but it didn’t matter. You knew what he was saying even without them.

Another rough bout of coughing forced you to part from the embrace. Sarah shifted into the spot you’d just inhabited as you snuck silently out of the room. As calmly as possible, you returned to the kitchen and joined the meal. Most of it had already been demolished, but there was plenty left for you and for some leftovers. Forcing down some food, you found yourself unable to take more than a few bites. Across the table, your youngest sister sat pushing the scraps of taco around her plate.

“Hey, kiddo, you feelin’ okay?” crossing the table, you crouched next to her chair, your hand outstretched to feel her forehead. There was no sign of a temperature, but clearly, something was bothering the little girl.

Looking around the table you noticed a similar sense of sadness had settled over the rest of the family. The older kids were certainly starting to understand that something was going on, and even the littlest of the crew could feel that things were off. You wanted to help, but there was nothing that would soften the blow of what was to come. The scrape of your chair against the floor broke everyone from their stupor. With your plate in hand, you let your impulsivity guide you.

“How about we go get some ice cream?” throwing them a smile you watched as the light returned to their eyes.

Even at eighteen, your oldest brother could hardly contain the excitement as he too pushed back from the table, “You think we can go to the Dairy Barn?”

“Sure, sounds good to me. They should still be open.”

Collectively, the rest of the family picked their way across the room to deposit their plates in the sink before heading to put on their shoes.

“I’ll be outside in a second guys, I’m gonna go tell Mom where we’re going. Take the keys and start the van.”

Not waiting for answers, you made your way back upstairs. The conversion was whispered as Ice had finally fallen asleep. With promises to get everyone back in time for curfew, you were off. The drive was anything but quiet as the boys played DJ, and the girls complained vociferously about their song choices. Staying quiet you soaked in the moment and tried your best to commit it to memory.

Safely parked near the door, you all clambered out of the vehicle and poured into the nearly empty Dairy Barn. One by one the orders were taken, and the icy treats made their way to thankful hands. Ordering last, you paid the bill without faltering too much at the price. Back outside at one of the rickety picnic tables your siblings devoured their treats. The remaining heat turned them into sticky messes, but it didn’t matter. For the first time that night, things felt lighter.

As the lights inside the store flickered off you, herded the crew back toward the van. With everyone settled, you slid into the driver's seat and shoved the key into the ignition. The drive back to the house was much more calm than before, a sugar-induced ‘coma’ had taken the wind out of their sails. Soft rock played from the radio as you turned the corner toward the house. Glancing ahead, your stomach dropped. Parked in the driveway of the Kazansky home was a beautiful blue Bronco, and standing beside it, as if was still working up the courage to move, was Bradley.

Pulling into the garage, you made quick work of the car seats and lovingly nudged everyone into the house, “Go wash your hands and brush your teeth. And don’t pretend, I’ll know if you fake it. Also, y'all better be in pajamas and headed for bed by the time I come in.”

Your youngest sister shifted in your arms as you stooped to sit her down. Her innocent question caught you off guard, “Who is that, Y/N?”

“That’s Rooster, we uhh… we work together.”

“He flies planes?”

“Yup.”

“Oh… all right.”

“All right, girly. You head inside, okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, you used your hands on your knees to stand from the squat. Inhaling deeply, you turned back to look at Rooster, ready to pounce on him with your words, but the look on his face kept you from attacking. He’d taken a few steps closer to the house, but there was still a considerable distance between you both.

“Why are you here, Bradley?” there was no malice in your words, only curiosity.

“I just… I needed to see you… to… to talk to you.”

“Now’s not really a good time,” you glanced back at the dark upstairs window of your parents' room.

“Y/N, please, don’t shut me out again. You said you were trying, now let me do the same,” honesty shaped his words and dulled their edges.

“Fine, but I… I'm gonna need a minute.”

“Take all the time you need,” turning back to the Bronco, his open shirt fluttered in the breeze.

Giving him a tentative smile, you headed back toward the door.

-----------------------------------

As quickly as you could manage, the nighttime routine was completed, and everyone was tucked into bed. You shot a quick text to your mom, just to let her know what was going on, but you had no intention of waiting for a response. Back outside, Bradley leaned against the side of the hood. His eyes were glued to the pavement in front of him until the sound of your approaching steps tore him out of whatever thoughts and memories he’d been stewing over. Looking up at you, he pushed himself free of the vehicle but made no move in your direction. A sharp breeze cut through the Navy hoodie you’d pulled on before heading back outside, but even the chill wasn't enough to force the conversation.

The sight of you, dressed in that same old sweatshirt, and ratty jean shorts, knocked him off kilter. Clearing his throat he contemplated where to start the apologies. The only thing he knew for sure was that the list was impossibly long. The scuff of your shoes on the ground came to a halt in front of him. Daring to look at your face, he memorized the touch of deep blue that sat beneath your stunning eyes and mapped the marks upon your skin. The tiny scars told of your trials and tribulations much as the same as his. A bone-weary look consumed your features turning them into shadows of what they’d always been. But most of all, he faltered at the fact that it was really you. The person he’d need more than anything, the person he’d pushed away when he should have drawn you close.

Gathering the courage, to meet his gaze, you found such sincerity in his eyes, and the sight of it broke something inside you. The back of your nose burned, and your throat tightened as you fought the emotions that steamrolled through your body. Nothing had been said, and yet being here like this with Bradley was more than you’d been prepared to handle. So many words needed to be said, to be freed from your heart and mind. But they were locked in a battle with none prevailing. Remaining silent, you turned your face to the ground once more and wrapped your arms around your body as if you could hold the pieces together. Seeing you crumble, he took a swift step in your direction. His strong hands came to rest on your waist and the side of your neck. Taking in quick breaths, you begged for control of yourself.

Gently, he tilted your face to meet his, “I'm right here, talk to me.”

That's all it took. You broke wide open, and the confession slammed down upon him like a bucket of frigid water, “His cancer’s back,” losing control of your lungs, you sobbed harshly and clung to Bradley’s gaze, “it’s back, and–”

“Y/N, I-”

“I don’t… I can’t do this without him,” shaking your head, you raged against the tears, “I don’t know how… and my mom-”

Your voice failed you, the reality of it all was simply too much to bear. In an instant, Bradley was hauling you close. His strong arms held you to his chest and he wrapped his sturdy arms around your body. Your head rested on his chest. He let you ride out the waves of emotions. With one arm around your waist and the other buried in your hair, he worked to control his own breathing. Staring past your shoulder, he couldn’t keep his own feelings at bay. Hot tears pooled in his eyes as he processed what you’d told him. He’d heard through the grapevine that Ice had been sick a while back, but the man was always an untouchable figure in his mind. Nothing could touch Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, but clearly, he’d been wrong.

Your fists twisted the back of his shirt. The cotton was butter to the touch, and the feel of it soothed your nerves. But it was the weight of him, the solidness of his presence that reeled you back from the abyss. With time, your lungs smoothed out, and your tears slowed. His steady exhales wafted through your hair as he took in the scent of your shampoo. Not wanting to let go, he adjusted his hold just enough so that he could whisper in your ear.

It took everything in him to speak as the warmth of your breath passed through his clean white undershirt, and sent chills down his spine, “Tell me what you need.”

There was no hesitation this time because every fiber of your being screamed for one thing, and one thing alone, “I can’t go back in there alone… not tonight…stay with me.”

There was no proper way to respond, but Bradley held you tighter, taking the bulk of your weight in his arms. Resting back against the Bronco, he settled you between his legs as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. Out of need and instinct, you leaned back in his arms. With a clear view of his face, you were mesmerized by the glint of moonlight in his eyes. A flash of it across his skin brought the scars along his neck and cheek into full view. Sliding your hand up his chest, you landed on the mottled patches of skin. Gingerly, you dragged your fingertips across them. All the while, Bradley’s eyes never left your face.

“Bradley…” you threaded your fingers into the short hair along the nape of his neck and gently brought his face to yours. With your foreheads pressed together, he took in the scent of your perfume.

The thump of your heart beating in your ears was drowned out by the sound of the wind blowing in the trees. And then, he was there. His lips pressed against yours, soft and gentle, testing the waters. The wide breadth of his hand slid from your waist before dipping into the back pocket of your shorts. Palming your ass, he groaned at the feeling of your free hand as it slide beneath the hem of his undershirt. The chill of your touch was in stark contrast to the heat that radiated off of him. He turned quickly, forcing you between him and the Bronco. With a bit more force than he’d intended, Bradley hauled himself back into you.

You met his desperation and drew him in by his belt loops. Haphazardly, he pushed up the bottom of your hoodie, exposing your body to the chill of the metal and cold air. Gasping at the sting of it, he took advantage of the moment and deepened the kiss. The taste of the beer he’d consumed sat heavy on his tongue. Humming lightly, you relished it, your body relaxed into his commanding touch. The drag of his fingers along the band of your bra sent shivers down your spine.

Bradley moved his attention to your neck. Nipping at the sensitive skin, he soothed the tender spots with his tongue as he worked his way down. His teeth grazed over a particularly delicate spot, and the quiet sound of your whimper drove him wild. Raking his hands along the outside of your thighs, he slipped under the hem of your hoodie once again. This time he continued his exploration. Ghosting over the goosebumps that had collected on your sides and over your breasts, he swept along the thin barrier in search of more. And he found it. Brushing over your nipples couldn’t contain the noise that escaped his lips. A strangled groan rumbled lowly from him as he savored the way you reacted to his touch.

Dropping your head back in pleasure, you lost yourself in him. The scrape of his mustache on your pulse point was thrilling. His eager hands reached for the back of your thighs bringing you up to his waist. And with that… everything broke. Pure ecstasy was ripped away by the agonizing clench of pain. Gasping loudly, your body stiffened in his arms. Immediately, Bradley reacted, lowering you back to the ground. There was no need to ask, he knew what was happening. Just like before, he felt for the knotted muscle and began to massage away the hurt.

"Fuck, Y/N. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so-" The sound of your words stopped him from speaking more.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you mumble weakly into his chest as he tended to you with incredible care.

“Don't apologize. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered in reply.

-------------------

Tag List: @eloquentdreamer

#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick fan fic

20 notes · View notes

rxyhiraeth · 5 months

Text

SO PJO CAME OUT TODAY

and i have a lot of thoughts

this is just me screaming into the void about this show that i’ve been excited about since it’s been announced.

i haven’t personally really read the books in a bit, so if i am remembering things incorrectly or forgetting if something was in the books or not, forgive me (and correct me and my terrible memory)

OBVIOUSLY SPOILERS AHEAD

EPISODE 1: I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher

first off - chapter titles. i knew about this a while ago but im so happy we are doing this

getting the whole speech from percy in the beginning oh we are so back

blackjack??? that was blackjack right??

MYTHOMAGIC CARDS

if this gets us actual mythomagic cards we can buy, so help me god. i’m gonna spend all my money on them

i will never be able to speak highly enough about sally jackson. best fictional mom ever and i love her with all of my heart.

the “hold fast perseus. brave the storm” parallel at the beginning and end of the episode oh i’m sick to my stomach

the fountain scene felt a little… goofy? from what i remember percy just remembers her ending up in the fountain,like it sounds like he kinda blacks out. maybe that’s actually how it was in the books, but i did imagine it differently.

grover and brunner being the KINGS of gaslighting

percy is stronger than i could ever be if grover exposed me like that i couldn’t talk to him for like a year.

the biggest issue i’ve seen everyone talk about: gabe. i understand WHY they made him how he is in the tv show. it’s a disney show, they can’t have him be completely book accurate putting his hands on sally and threatening percy for money so he can play poker, but i feel like this doesn’t fit with how he ends up at the end of book 1. maybe we will see a more ‘evil’ side to him through the news interviews and stuff, or he will have a different ending, but i feel like the way he acts now doesn’t justify his end in book 1 that i expect to see in the tv show.

sally in the rain listening to olivia rodrigo i love her so much 😭😭😭

d’angelos??? it’s spelled differently but reference perhaps? i cannot WAIT to see nico i hope we get to see him in the casino

i didn’t get this until i saw someone point it out but the cuts to black were ends of chapters!! and it makes so much more sense. i will say it feels a bit odd?? but i honestly prefer it more as someone who has read the books.

i find the whole sally explaining the gods to percy interesting. it fits for the tv show more, but i love book percy just getting forced into camp half blood without any real knowledge just like “what the fuck is going on”

“Like… like Jesus?” PERCY PLS

i love this grover reveal, but the BEST will forever be the musical

“She was a fury!” “YOU’RE a furry, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR LEGS?!?”

grover dropping the fact he is 24 in a super intense scene is very grover

that first shot of thalia’s tree lit up by the LIGHTNING gave me CHILLS

the entire minotaur scene was incredible. sally’s speech to grover and percy. percy killing the minotaur. insane

not to mention sally taking percy’s jacket to throw off the minotaurs scent? such a cool choice

EPISODE 2: I Become Supreme Lord of the Bathroom

"you droll when you sleep" YUPPP MHMM YUP

ik that the whole 'Mr. D trying to use percy to get a drink' thing is supposed to be a little joke, but its also such a good way to explain the whole "gods can get their kids to steal shit for them because they can't do it themselves" without having a whole dramatic moment explaining it.

in my head I imagined the entire camp being very heavily wooded, maybe that's just the movies having some influence over me when it comes to visualization, but it was cool to see the camp in the actually valley in a very book accurate portrayal.

OH THE CABINS MY EYES WERE GLUED THE WHOLE TIME

THEY LOOK SO GOOD

this tv show has already captured the two personally traits of percy jackson: 1. he loves his mom 2. he hates the gods

the jelly beans

seeing Luke befriend percy and be his first friend at camp luke I am in your fucking walls

I personally feel like the way they have chosen to portray clarisse is quite different from the books, but I absolutely love it. i was not a fan of her for a while in the books, but I love her immediately in this version.

also did we get to 'see' the cloven council in tlt? I don't think we did, and I like seeing it in prep for sea of monsters.

the entire scene of percy praying to his mom breaks me. oh my god. favorite scene in the entire show so far. it breaks my heart he loves and misses her so much.

"I think I've made some friends here. like real friends" luke I have a gun

the whole bathroom scene. that's it.

ANNABETH

maybe its just different seeing all these characters portrayed well on the screen, but she feels super different than book annabeth but also exactly the same. im not 100% how to explain it but there is no one better to play annabeth than leah

I am so excited to see this slowburn all over again

"she my little sister" luke please

thalia name pronunciation how are we feeling team

i have 100% been pronouncing it the other way this whole time but oh well

"sunshine" hey! when we get the first "seaweed brain" I am going to go crazy

"percy's on it. when its time he's gonna be ready" are you sure about that luke

in the books the main 'introduction scene' we got with clarisse was the bathrooms, but this scene with her in the woods feel much more like an introduction scene and im not sure if this was done on purpose, but I love her and this scene.

annabeth. I cannot stress my love for her enough

annabeth pushing him into the water instead of him falling. love her

percy FINALLY finding a place he belongs only to be forced out on a quest for his dad that he fucking hates

"good kid" from tlt musical was so right

"I am Sally Jackson's son!" what if I just started eating glass rn

anyway I am absolutely obsessed with this show already. I am so sorry to anyone who doesn't want pjo on their feed you are getting it anyway.

if this show is your first introduction to the series. read the books! or at least the lightning thief. and for the love of god LISTEN TO THE MUSICAL. I cannot stress enough how good of a portrayal of the book it is and it is my all time favorite interpretation of the books (although this show may take that top spot soon).

#pjo fandom #pjo spoilers #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy pjo #annabeth chase #grover underwood #camp half blood #this is going to become my entire personality #percy and annabeth #percybeth #luke castellan #thalia grace #clarisse pjo #the lightning thief

25 notes · View notes

daisychainsandbowties · 11 months

Note

Mrs. Villaumbrosia cleaning out the beach house and just sending all Lilith’s notebooks to her professional address which Lilith is used to and not bothered by except there’s a graduate assistant who goes through all of it and digitizes all the data Lilith has kept since she was, what, 7? when she started really overcoming her writing difficulties. The GA compiles everything Lilith has; esp. roughly two decades of lumpfish data and emails Lilith a copy to approve for publication. Lilith’s only edit is to add Michael as a coauthor.

It starts with dozens of emails from her overeager grad student, taglines full of exclamation points, all caps, conga lines of commas ,,,,,,,LUMPFISH!!!!

Her mother sends it over in an old orange crate she found in the basement, and Lilith would have felt her hands shake if it had been her - and not Michael - who cracked the lid. If she saw how neatly her mother packed each notebook, adding wads of fabric to stop them from falling over.

Inside, also, are her father’s binoculars in their green leather case; old film and videotapes; an adult’s snorkeling mask that’s been cannibalized to fit a child’s head.

One of her old hoodies for stuffing, with a picture of a cartoon crab on the front. Tourist rubbish, given to her by a stall owner who saw her walking up off the beach in a t-shirt and shorts at the advent of a storm, shuddering from the chill and drenched in saltwater. He handed it to her, along with a can of Coca Cola he’d been saving to have with a cigarette after closing up the stall.

The notebooks are held shut with rubber bands so none of the loose pages escape. Her mother would have done this by hand.

But it’s not Lilith who finds this silent “i love you” hidden in an old crate, specially couriered from their old beach house. It’s her grad student, but the sight does at least arrest him.

(and Lilith won’t know this for another decade, but her mother was cleaning up the house to sell it. instead she puts it in Lilith's name. just… gives it to her, slots the keys into an envelope: to be delivered upon my death)

Michael describes how he shook sand out of some of the notebooks, the smell of the ocean dried into the pages when he cracked the spines again to sift through a summertime of drawings.

They’re precise, for the most part. Practical, with neatly described dimensions, notation in a scrunched-up hand because writing hurt, but even then it was impossible not to do it. She had to record what she saw underneath the water.

Sea urchins chewing through the holdfasts at the bottom of kelp, their bodies so bright with the water fleshing down past the moving canopy. Lilith, diving to the seafloor to watch them, armed with the ruler from her father’s old geometry set. Lilith, finding their fivefold symmetry, noting the length of each spine and gently prizing their tube feet from the rocks to carry one of them ashore.

And Michael is like her so he doesn’t balk when she describes slotting her penknife into its shell, little notes on how the spines still moved, and for how long. Observing them down on the sea bed and noting in a scrawl surrounded by water droplets “spines used for locomotion?”

There are drawings of her octopus friend. One, from memory, of her wrapped around Lilith’s arm, trailing her suckers up towards the elbow joint. She finds, scrunched in against this drawing, an almost indecipherable note that Michael mistook for a child’s attempt at an artist’s signature. But it’s not that - when she was eight she never dreamed that anyone would read her notes, or care as much as she did about the ocean. There, in tiny writing, she finds a note (to herself, perhaps?) that reads “me and Octi in july. it was warm.”

It’s a charter of one small stretch of coastline, every species hunted down and documented. She only dissected a few of them, just crabs and sea urchins, comb jellies and sea sponges and, once, a dead pyjama shark.

The others she only observed, diving until she was dizzy and only for as long as a breath could hold her.

Michael sends her the proof, and it’s beautiful. her coloured sketches and her simpler ones arrayed around the sections of commentary she sent him in return emails, over months and months and months. Next to that, her childish observations - crude science, but some of it astounds her. It’s almost poetry, or maybe it only seems like it, to her.

Because she lived it, lungs aching in the aching depth, watching the kelp sway and cast shadows. An octopus wrapped around her arm, following the span and clench of her fist with its little arms, watching the waves crash overhead but sitting calm in the drag of the undertow. It was the only peaceful place in the entire world, back then.

Lilith has found another one since then.

The proof copy of the book arrives festooned in bright customs stamps, stickers haphazard on the cardboard. Lilith scatters packing peanuts across her office floor when she opens it, makes a mental note to pick them up before paprika tries to eat them. The cover is what she expects, but it steals her breath. It’s the drawing of her octopus, tangled around the thinness of Lilith’s seven-year old arm. She can almost feel the water moving around her, the pressure of the suckers on her skin.

Camila finds her staring at it, coming gently into the room with a thermos of soup and half a plastic-wrapped loaf of bread under one arm. Hearing her, Lilith looks up, and there are tears in her eyes.

She blinks, slow, and Camila is there, leaning down to take Lilith's jaw in her hands, thumb swooping over her cheeks.

“It's here,” Lilith mumbles, inarticulate in the presence of her own tears.

And she can’t explain it, really.

Only that she was happy, back then. Curled up in her crab hoodie with her notebook, sketching the sea stacks that you can spot from on top of the cliffs. Her coloured pencils scattered in the sand as she switched between them, trying to capture the deep green of the kelp suffused in sunlight, the red trail of innards from the pyjama shark she hauled up onto the sand. Sea urchins and the quiet rustling of their spines. Jellyfish in their medusa-phase trailing their tentacles.

The peace of floating with them, of following fish and watching sessile creatures creep over the seabed. It was her home, her safest and most sacred place.

But she was also alone, and it was also lonely. Walking home to her unlatched window, she’d sneak down to steal crackers and cheese from the pantry, or cold cuts of ham from the refrigerator - bathed in that cold glow in her bare feet, hands covered in tiny punctures from handling sea urchins without care. She used to pour alcohol-based hand sanitizer over them in the kitchen sink, wincing, and then find the aftertaste of it on the crackers and the cheese.

“I just…” she leans into Camila's touch. “I miss being there, and I don't.”

Camila nods - and Lilith thinks she does understand, growing up poor, hungry, looking after her little brother when the money ran out mid-week.

She leans down, and Lilith rises to meet her, feeling for an instant like she’s back home, surging up towards the air and the light.

Cam kisses her, and Lilith lets her eyes flutter closed because this is it. Her second, sacred, peaceful place. And maybe she’s a fool for finding it in Camila's mouth, but Lilith is a lover of short-lived creatures.

And this one, at least, can also love her back.

#palmer station au #camilith #warrior nun #lilith the marine biologist 🥺#well done anon... you made me so much worse #(but ty for real this was the sweetest softest prompt)#casper writes

63 notes · View notes

laytonsartblog · 10 months

Text

Jasmine The Informant (TF2OC)

Here’s some more of my one and only Jasmine, the wonderful Informant!

I’m gonna add more on her in the form of a file summary, redacted for the sake of privacy and confidentiality:

Her name is Jasmine [REDACTED], born on ##/##/21 in [REDACTED], United States. Her home life was fine, and in some cases more open than her peers, if not distant. Encouraged by her father to expand her intelligent mind, she went to the Drexel Institute of Art, Science and Industry in 1939 and received a PhD in Library and Information Science in 1947. In her final year at university, Jasmine would have a fling with one of her classmates: a man named David [REDACTED], and in 1947 was born her daughter [REDACTED] [REDACTED]. Jasmine raised her as a single mother for eight years before being contacted by The Administrator to replace the old Informant. She took the job on the condition that [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED], in exchange, she would [REDACTED REDACTED]. The Administrator agreed. In 1955, she officially became The Informant and has been working on the job ever since.

And here’s a list of things about her and her life:

• Her daughter, of whom you may know is named Mary, is an activist, and an organization leader for her service The Simple House, a nonprofit group dedicated to housing, educating, and caring for children. She has a side job at a restaurant as a waitress. She also graduated with an associate’s degree at the same college her mother went to for business with a minor in sociology

• While she can’t hack, she has incredible memory and often only needs to see someone type in a password once in order to replicate it. The same goes for organization systems, language, etc

• Speaking of language, she dedicates herself to learning every language that the Teams can speak. So far she knows Russian, French, Spanish, and German fairly well, though not at any fluent level. Catalan and Dutch are on her list.

• Her job is mostly like an archiving/IS job when she has free time, though most of the time she is tasked with making sure no one is contacting the outside world unless cleared and preventing any spread of information that leaks. This can lead from reporting any suspicious creations by the Engineer or Demoman that might work as a radio, removing any phone or computer not connected to the Administration’s network (looking at you, Spy), and following the Sniper to his phone calls to his parents. She is the one that writes down every recorded conversation and stores it safely away. She also occasionally helps Ms. Pauling on field missions, though mostly on information retrieval.

• Ms. Pauling views Jasmine like some grumpy aunt that mostly complains about her work and spills any gossip she hears around the office or team members.

Okay… silly fact time

• She is ambidextrous

• She hates any and all gerbils

• She eats a banana with jelly and peanuts on top every morning and washes it down with black coffee. She says it’s nutritious

• If you put sugar or milk in her coffee she will kill you. If you give her decaf as a prank she will ACTUALLY kill you

• She has one of those mini toolkits on her at all times and will freak out if she can’t find it

• She only ever had a pet cat and that thing hated her almost as much as she hated it. She only bought it for her daughter. His name was Donald.

• She only talked to Spy once. She almost throttled him when he asked her if she was single

• Her favorite color is a nice minty green

• She is so tired. All of the time. She sleeps a maximum of 6 hours a night, usually 4

• She is a bisexual mess. She’s fantasized many times having one spicy night with Helen. Look man don’t judge her she admires the ferocity and power what do you want

• She is genuinely awful at combat. Terrible. She stays fit and acrobatic to sneak around, but ask her to fight Scout and she’ll end up on her ass in two seconds

Aaand that’s it. I invite any and all propaganda, fanart, etc, for the @tf2shipswag OC tournament! Can’t wait to see how far she gets!

#tf2ocpropaganda #tf2octourney #tf2 oc #tf2 oc art #my art #The Informant

29 notes · View notes

walker-bait-1973 · 8 months

Text

We Ain't Dead Part Four

A Daryl Dixon x Y/N Fanfiction

18+

Warnings: Typical TWD Violence, Alcohol, Mention of Suicide, Swearing, Nudity

Author's Notes: Our two heroes, Daryl and Y/N are on the run after their run-in with the Governor's men.

Master List

Chapter Three

Chapter 12: On the Move Again

Daryl and Y/N spent two more nights there in that department store. Daryl showed Y/N how to smoke thin slices of meat for jerky. They ate their fill from the freezer until they were stuffed.

Y/N shared some memories of growing up for Daryl to enjoy, which he did. It was interesting to him. It reminded him of Rick. A bit of melancholy loomed over him.

Early the second morning, they prepared to break camp. Y/N pulled the worn map out of her pack. They sat around the fire for discussion and agreed on the direction to take. It would keep them close to civilization for a while. Maybe they'd find some of the others. Someone had to have gotten out, right?

Y/N poured the remaining make-shift coffee over the fire putting it out. They did their best to barricade the door to keep out potential Walkers. A search of vehicles along the way proved to be in vain. Until finally, Daryl hotwired a beat-up station wagon. The vehicle had very little gas; and just made it close to their destination before running out. Continuing on foot, they scavenged the surrounding buildings. There was scarcely much around.

Daryl opened a walk-in freezer in a fast-food restaurant. He coughed, gagging from the smell of rot and decay. He flashed his light in and saw five people dead. It was obvious they’d killed themselves with a gun. Taking turns no doubt. Some people just weren’t made for this new and cruel world. Grimacing, he picked up the gun, some unused bullets, and shoved them in his pocket.

“Find anything?” Y/N asked as he closed the door. He shook his head. She didn’t need to see the gruesome scene in the freezer.

“C’mon."

They gathered up the little they found, and headed down the sidewalks, hugging the walls tight, going from side to side. On the outskirts, they cleared a home, and set up there for the night. Daryl found some jelly and stale crackers in the cupboard. Y/N was setting a fire in the fireplace while Daryl covered the windows with blankets. They barred the doors and plopped down in front of the fire.

Daryl stuck his fingers into the jelly, slurped it in and handed it to Y/N. She poured some down her throat. Daryl licked his fingers as she dipped a cracker into the jelly, ate it and then handed one to Daryl. Soon, she handed Daryl back the jar, and made her way deeper into the house for a better look. There was hardly anything worth pilfering. Disappointed, she went back into the living room to join Daryl for a lousy dinner of canned beans. It was decided they’d keep the smoked meat for emergencies.

The next morning, Walkers started busting in the door. They fought their way out the back and moved on.

Their days consisted of moving from place to place, looking for things to eat, possible places to settle in for a bit, and getting some real rest. Their nights were mostly wasted on keeping Walkers at bay, or fitful sleep. The places were either empty of anything worth eating or using, or they were destroyed by Walkers. They were continuously on the move.

They went on this way for several months. They looked worse for the wear and were nearly Walkers themselves by the time they got to one hopeful looking place. It looked as if it was still standing from the outside. The lawn was littered with some bits and pieces of Walkers, Humans, or both. They couldn't tell. Nor did they want to think about it.

"C'mon," Daryl grunted, shooting a stray Walker through the head. Y/N pulled the arrow, stomped the head down, and handed the arrow back to Daryl.

Daryl tapped the glass and looked through one of the windows, "I don't see anythin’." He knocked one more time, "Hey!" he yelled out. Nothing. He shrugged, "alright then…" he picked the lock, jiggled the door handle, and popped it open quickly. He pointed inside, holding a finger to his lips. He went in first, Y/N close behind, each clearing a room until they met back up in the living room.

"I can't believe this," Y/N said looking suspiciously about, "there's no dead ones in here, no human bodies… it's messy, but looks like whomever came in, left, and managed to keep Walkers out."

Daryl sniffed the air, "naw, just cleaned up real good." He pointed out a few small flecks of blood on the wall.

"Still, this is good for a night, maybe two."

"One night. Don't have enough food. No woods for huntin'. Can look 'round for field mice… ain't much meat on em though," he said, plopping down on the couch, putting his feet up on the arm of it.

"There was a bedroom that looked like it had some things left. Maybe we can find some clean clothes," Y/N said, pulling off her coat. Her shirt was caked with blood, mud, and sweat. Inside the room, she moved trinkets around, trying to find useful things. The drawers were pretty cleaned out, except for underwear and socks. Yeah, they left the practical stuff. Digging through the dresser, Y/N nabbed a handful of clean socks.

She rummaged through the closet, "bingo." She pulled some sweaters, clean button-down shirts, and jeans tossing them on the bed. Daryl stopped in the doorway. Y/N had some clean clothes on the bed and began peeling off her shirt. He sucked more jelly off his fingers and set the jar down. His eyes cast up and down her body curiously.

She started wiping their arms down the best she could with handkerchiefs she’d found in one of the drawers.

His eyes quickly darted over her body, seeing one of Y/N’s small round breasts reflected in the mirror, and as his eyes lowered the patch of dark hair between her legs. Swallowing hard, he turned quickly and finished his trek to the bathroom.

Y/N turned, hearing a sound. She turned around, but there wasn’t anything there, so she continued with her mission. She picked through the underwear drawer.

After a few minutes, Y/N spied Daryl in the mirror. He averted his eyes.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “Water for y'all in the sink. Caught some 'fore the pump quit if ya wanna wash up.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and returned to the living room.

Y/N headed into the bathroom. She found some soap and started washing her filthy face. It was covered with dirt, dust, and walker blood. Her hair had grown down to her jawline now, and was matted against her face, she sighed.

“Here,” Daryl said behind her, “put your head down,” she tried to object. He held her in place, “It’s okay. Put your head down.” He’d grabbed a cup from the kitchen and poured the water over her head and scrubbed her hair. She closed her eyes, her scalp tingling. As he towel dried it, she straightened up, He wet the washcloth again and slowly wiped down her back in slow circular motions. She cringed at first, afraid of the touch. She’d only known pain intimately.

“S’okay,” he said softly, wiping the soap off. He wiped it with a towel, and then she wrapped the towel around her chest. When she turned around, his eyes were looking into hers. She touched his dirty face.

“Look,” he said, licking his lips. He unbuttoned his shirt. She was about to speak, but he gave her a forced smile. He dropped the shirt onto the floor. He turned around, exposing his back to her.

“Dad liked the belt, especially the buckle. We had a willow tree in the yard. On his drunk days, he’d tell me to go get a branch. I’d pick the thicker ones you know, that hung down? Because I knew they stung less. When I’d bring it back to him, he’d get really pissed and drag me outside to grab a long thin one. They hurt like a son of a bitch. Like a whip. I’d bleed for hours. He also used me for an ashtray, putting out his smokes on me.” He reached around pointing to a few scabbed over burns. Y/N traced some of the scars with her fingers and looked over at two Demons on his right shoulder blade. His muscles tightened under her tender touch, but then relaxed.

“I’m just like you,” he whispered, turning back around, “they’re battle scars. Shows you ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

She gave him a shy nod and went into the bedroom. He drained the sink, then used the cup in the back of the toilet water tank. He poured it over his head, washed his hair, and then with the last cup of water, washed his face and armpits. He tossed his shirt into the tub. Y/N came out of the bedroom dressed in new jeans, and a button- down flannel shirt.

“There’s men’s clothes,” she said pointing to the dresser. He nodded. She touched his shoulder as she passed. He went through the drawers. Finding a t-shirt, he ripped the sleeves off and shrugged into it. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment. His hair was over his ears now and hanging in his eyes. He rubbed his chin, the hair was getting long. Shaking his head, he barely recognized himself.

He returned to the living room where Y/N placed two cans of beans in the coals of the fire.

“Five- star food tonight,” she said. He grimaced.

“Great,” he muttered. She pulled them from the coals with a rag and set them on the floor. They started eating.

"Only the best," Y/N muttered, scraping the bottom of her can. The food went way too fast, "who's still hungry?"

"Wait twenty minutes," Daryl said, "see if your still hungry. Here," he handed her a bottle of whisky.

"Where'd you get this?" She asked, twisting the cap off.

"Back at one of them restaurants," he answered, pouring water in his can, swishing it, drinking it down as he always did. Y/N gave him her can and took a sip of the booze. She hissed, "damn that's rough." It burned her throat as she coughed hard.

His lip curved upward slightly, "didn't say it was good. Give it here," he held out his hand. She handed it over, he took a long draw off it, his lips tightening. He set it down next to her.

"Have some more," he said, "help ya sleep tonight."

She hesitated.

“C’mon, catch up.”

"Catch up? Have you been into this already?" she asked.

He shrugged. Y/N was amused but didn’t realize what the original reason was. Daryl had finished up his beans, thinking about their time on the road, and learning more about Y/N through her stories. She was a hard ass just like him, with little fear. And after her reaction in the bathroom, he realized she, like him, had a hard time with interpersonal relationships.

He’d always felt so vastly different. That was apparent in the way he dressed, talked, and handled things. Completely made sense now why he resonated so well with her; he could be around her completely silent, and she understood. She didn’t look at him oddly when he ate snakes, or shit in the woods. She just accepted and pretty much did the same.

But after he saw more of her body, and he helped her wash her hair, he started to notice more than ever that she was a woman. She had those curves, she was feminine. She had slender fingers and shapely legs. And those breasts… That’s when he began feeling suddenly awkward and dipped into the booze taking a long draw off it before bringing it around to share.

She shook her head as she took another sip. He tipped it upwards with his finger. She coughed, her chest on fire. When she pulled the bottle from her lips, she pointed at him.

“Not nice.”

He snatched the bottle, another large swig and held it back out to Y/N, “C’mon,” he urged. She shook her head.

“C’mon!” he said loudly. Frowning, she grabbed the bottle from him and threw it into the fire. It shattered into shards and drew the flames higher from the alcohol.

“What’d ya do that for?” he asked, kicking at the empty cans. Y/N stood shielding herself from the cans as they flew past her.

“What’s the matter with you?” she shouted angrily. He started pacing like a rabid wolf.

“We can’t live like this!” he exclaimed, “Goin’ house to house, scroungin' for food, washin’ in toilet water!” He kicked over the coffee table. It broke into pieces.

Y/N grabbed his arm, “Daryl, it will get better. We’ll find a place.”

“Where?” he spread his arms wide, “Have ya seen what’s out there? This is fucking life now.” He dragged his hand along the mantel, knocking all the pictures down, glass fragmenting.

“It can’t be,” Y/N said, allocating space, “it won’t be. If we can’t find a place, we’ll make a place.”

He looked at her with tear-streaked eyes, “what?”

"We’re surrounded by building materials everywhere! Piles of wood, paneling, half -built houses… we can find a place, or go in the woods, set up a perimeter, and build one.”

“What 'bout walkers? How we gonna drag things to the woods, Y/N, bein' chased by walkers?”

“A little at a time,” she said slowly.

He kicked over a chair, grabbed his crossbow. He stormed off through the front door.

Y/N felt something on her cheek, and when she lifted it with her finger, realized it was a tear. She hadn’t truly cried since Beth. It's good for him to get some space. She proceeded to push broken glass closer to the fireplace with her boot as she began to sniffle, fighting tears and decided she’d gather blankets for bed, wanting to make things as comfortable as possible.

She heard the clanging of hubcaps and cans. Daryl was setting up the alarms across the porch steps.

The fire restocked with wood, the coals stirred up, creating a nice orange glow and radiating heat, Y/N laid down on the blankets. She was drifting in and out when the door opened back up.

Daryl shut the door quietly behind him before kicking off his boots, “what’s all this?”

"I set up camp for the night," Y/N said, opening her heavy-lidded eyes, "trying to make it more like home."

He snorted, "home? Y'all can remember what home was like? This place is better 'n the shit place I was at." He said this with a bite. He stood up and slipped out of his vest and jacket.

"No matter where we come from, we deserve a little comfort, so come on down here, it's so toasty," Y/N patted a pile of blankets.

"Naw, I'm good."

Looking over her shoulder, "get down here, Dixon. I went through the trouble of setting you up a bed, you're going to sleep on it. Besides, that couch stinks."

"What're ya talking about, woman?" he demanded, sniffing the couch, "smells fine to me."

"Yeah? And you carried around a dead opossum for two days in your pack. I'm not going to tell you again," she reached over and grabbed his ankle, tugging on it.

"Christ! If I come down there, will ya stop buggin’ me?"

"Yes," she vowed. Y/N chuckled as Daryl fell onto the blankets with another huff. He hated to admit it, but even the blankets felt better than the cot mattresses in the prison cells. He laid back, resting his head, his arms folded behind his head.

"Was that so hard?" she asked, "you're so damn stubborn." Daryl chewed his inner lower lip.

"I can take first watch tonight," she volunteered.

Daryl shook his head, "Naw… I'll take it."

Y/N said, "Look here… you rarely sleep. Let me help you out for a change. You know that we're probably safe tonight. And you're a light sleeper, Daryl! You'd hear anything anyway."

He hesitated. Y/N nodded at him, "you know I’m good at staying awake. I'm all caught up on my sleep…" She pointed to the curve under her eyes, "look at my circles compared to yours, Daryl… you look exhausted."

"Fine," he huffed, "lower the flames on the fire so we don't attract no one's eyes."

Y/N nodded, "I'll take care of it." She scrambled out of the blankets and poked around in the fire, moving out some of the smaller logs that were burning bright, "sucks, it was so warm in here."

"Survivin's more important than heat, Y/N," he said as his heavy lids closed.

Y/N grabbed her bow. She found a kitchen chair and slid it up to the front window.

Chapter 13: Claims

Y/N listened to Daryl breathing quietly. She began to hum lowly to herself to keep herself awake as the hours dwindled on. Towards dawn, she heard a shuffling of feet, and a man's voice, “What’s this?”

“Looks like someone’s here, look at the chimney,” another voice said. Y/N peeked between the window coverings just enough to see five men.

Daryl slid into his boots and glanced at Y/N as she looked over at him holding a finger over his lips. She walked quietly over and handed him his crossbow and tied up their bags. She shouldered them both, grabbed her spears just as the door kicked open. Daryl aimed the crossbow, Y/N her bow.

A tall man with gray hair and beard smiled a toothy grin, “Isn’t this cozy?”

“Turn round and leave,” Daryl said, steady.

Four more men peered in behind the first man.

“Why? This looks like a nice place to bed down for the night,” He eyed the cans of food, “looks like a great set up.”

“I claim that crossbow,” one said.

“I claim that bitch,” said one, looking at Y/N.

“I said leave,” Daryl frowned deeply. Y/N shot her bow, landing an arrow in the shoulder of the man who called her a bitch. He howled in pain.

The man in front laughed, “hold up there, mama,” he lifted his hands, “Name’s Joe.”

“Don’t care if your name is Jesus H. Christ. I ain’t gonna tell ya again,” Daryl growled his deep set eyes squinting in anger.

Suddenly, Daryl shot Joe in the leg, he fell down to one knee before he knew what hit him. Daryl shot the next guy in the chest, killing him instantly. The two others came in with guns and began to shoot up the place. Y/N rolled behind the couch to avoid a spray of bullets ricocheting all around them. She raised one spear, and threw it like a javelin, the sharpened point piercing one shooter’s chest pinning him to the door. Joe was screaming “Kill them!”

Daryl pulled his knives, ran forward thrusting one knife at Joe, slashing across his neck. He bled out, dying.

Daryl backed up, but not before cutting one of the last gunman’s arteries in his thigh.

“Son of a bitch!” The guy dropped his gun. Y/N slipped the gun into her hand and shot the guy who called her bitch. Daryl motioned her to follow him out the door. When they got outside, the walkers were coming, attracted to the noise and smell of fresh blood in the air.

“Walkers,” Y/N said. They ran off as fast as they could away from the house.

Chapter 14: Downpour

They passed through the next town without stopping. Fighting Walkers, scrounging food, moving on… and on… and on…

Y/N was dead on her feet. She stumbled over a stone, waking herself up. Daryl realized that she was ready to pass out. They’d been walking for days. He put a supportive arm around her and headed into the woods. She sat down like a lump as he set up camp. He started a fire and laid out blankets.

“Comere,” he said, patting a spot close to the fire. Y/N crawled over, and face planted into the blanket.

Daryl smelled the rain before he felt it. A downpour, thunder cracking. Y/N sat up, suddenly wide awake as fat drops of water beaded down on them.

“Shit!” Y/N yelled, both immediately drenched. The fire went out. They’d left their tent at the last house when they were overrun from Walkers.

Daryl got to his feet, "C'mon! This way!" They ran out towards the road, and spying a school, broke in. They slipped on the smooth floors with their wet boots.

Daryl pointed in different directions, as to where they were going to start and which way they were going to work the multitude of hallways. Y/N nodded, as she blockaded the door with old brooms and mops, wedging the door shut. She glanced out the muddied windows, covered with Walker prints. Walkers began following where they'd trekked to the front doors on the outside. As they neared it, she tapped Daryl's shoulder, "We need to move," she informed him, barely above a whisper. He nodded, motioning them to go.

The dark hallways proved more difficult to traverse than expected. There were barricades at different intervals; ruined clothing, old cans, and supplies littered the floor. There were some dead bodies torn to shreds with Walker bodies laid to rest around them, brains bashed in. Useless broken weapons could be seen strewn here and there, busted out windows to classrooms.

Daryl put his ear up to one door, the window still intact. As he did so, shadows lurked closer. The growls began and heavy dead hands slapping on the glass, busting it out near him. He slid away quickly, shaking the glass out of his hair, and grabbing a large wooden door stop, pressing it between the handle and the latch, to keep it closed.

“Are you alright?” She asked moving close to him, she searched his face and hair for glass shards. He had a few small cuts on his face.

“I’m fine…” he brushed her hand away and pointed his chin down the hallway with a quick jerk before wiping the water leaking from his hair down into his eyes with a grimy sleeve.

The two drowned rats continued their inspection for safety, fighting a few straggling Walkers in various places.

Daryl was desperate to find a place to set up, but Y/N had wandered off. He couldn’t find her, the wet footprints mixed in with the walker prints in blood and dirt all over the place and in different directions.

Daryl walked along until he came to the one place they hadn’t checked. The kitchen. He kicked open the door to it. Y/N spun around, bow ready, but she lowered it, “Sorry I wandered away. But the gas is still on,” she pointed to the stove. She’d turned on the industrial ovens and opened the doors.

Y/N was shivering, lips turning blue. Daryl felt the cold hitting him as well.

“We gotta get outta these clothes,” he said, dropping his jacket. If he paused to think about the fact that he was exposing himself to her, he'd have thought twice. But survival took precedence over everything.

Y/N went through her pack. All the extra clothes were drenched. Her eyes shot toward Daryl and back at her wet clothes.

"Ya wanna freeze to death? Ya'll are turnin' blue!" Daryl hissed; his shirt was already off.

Y/N turned away from him to take off her shirt. She wrung it out and laid it on the oven door. She slipped out of her jeans, socks, and underwear. She clapped one arm across her breasts, her other hand trying to cover below as she turned around. Daryl was attempting to hide his junk with his hands. He tried to avert his eyes. Y/N laid his clothes with hers on the large oven door.

“C’mere,” he said to her, holding out his arms forgetting completely about decency. Y/N hesitated, uncomfortable with the situation.

“C’mere,” he repeated. She went to him, and he wrapped his muscular arms around her, trying to share body heat. She wrapped her arms as well, pulling close together for equal distribution of said heat. They rubbed one another's arms, quickly forgetting their nudity, bent on survival. Their chests bumped hard together, creating heat. They pressed their foreheads together, shivering.

Some heat started to radiate from the ovens. Y/N lifted her head, her nose rubbing against Daryl's scruffy cheek. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes as they shook from the cold. He was chewing his lip, unable to break the gaze between them. Her lips trembled, and teeth chattered. He rubbed the back of her head and pulled her in tighter. Y/N pushed her face into his shoulder, her cheek against his neck.

"We'll be okay," he uttered, his voice like smokey velvet, allaying their fears.

It took quite some time before the survivors began to warm up. Daryl rested his chin on Y/N's shoulder while her teeth finally stopped chattering. He closed his eyes, relaxing against her. She could smell his musky scent, feel his heat. Her hand rested on his hip as they stood like a pyre, practically writhing together to raise their body temperatures. Daryl rubbed Y/N’s back slowly, causing a nice friction for her exposed skin. He had her now situated with her back closest to the heat.

The rain hit the metal roof hard, drumming out any other noise. Lightning struck over and over, causing a strobe effect in the room. Exhausted, Y/N and Daryl slowly sat on the floor, Daryl behind her holding her. She rested her head on his broad shoulder while he leaned his head on the top of hers. They watched the patterns of water on the windows. The sky washed black. The rain came down harder, and when it hit the parking lot, it bounced causing puddles.

“Do you think it will stop?” She asked.

He shook his head, "Hard to say." Daryl's hand grazed over her scars. She stiffened, but as his caress continued, and his touch gentle, she soon felt the soothing effect on her nerves. She'd not been touched quite so intimately since the time he washed her hair. He sensed her tension and thought about how he would want to be touched. When he followed through, the result was better than he thought It would be. The back of her head nestled further into his shoulder.

Part Five

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n

20 notes · View notes

mayumiiyuu · 2 years

Text

i. red.

the kaleidoscope project masterlist

1975, location unknown.

I had spent practically my entire life in the Lab, alongside others.

We were named after colors; to differentiate us, color coded to correspond to each of our abilities. Moreover, they managed to engineer a serum, a drug formulated with the same substance that made jelly fish and other animals to emit bioluminescence, altering our biology so that our eyes brightly glowed our corresponding colors, the reaction being triggered whenever our powers, our abilities were in use, to ensure that the scientists who worked on us could easily detect any attempts that would result in an attack or a fluke in their experimentation, our training.

Yellow's eyes glimmered gold during her test runs, she could harness energy from calories and carbohydrates to act as fast as lightning, her aura crackled her corresponding color as she evaded bullets, stopped knives thrown at her in midair. Blue had the ability to read a person's thoughts, know their memories, be inside their head and extract information with a single glance. Green could sense injuries with just a touch, utilizing his own energy to stitch flesh back together, mend bones, and halt the oozing of blood from an open wound--but he could also cause those injuries to escalate in order to guarantee death just as quick as he could fix it. Orange created objects, weapons out of heat and energy with their mind. Violet's skin changed to fit in with her environment, genetically enhanced with the DNA of octopi and chameleons, rendering her invisible, a shapeshifter in her own right. Indigo had the ability to send his victims into psychosis, commanding people's minds like a puppet master as he reached into their minds and enforced his will on them.

They called me Red.

I am able to absorb energy: electricity, light, and heat, turning that energy into its purest form; controlling beams and spheres and bursts of unadulterated power from the palms of my hands.

I have the ability to manipulate, alter and mutate matter; rearranging matter down to its molecular level, pulling apart cells and scrambling up atoms, manipulating different materials, forcing them into a divergence, a metamorphosis that only I could control, until it became something entirely different from what it was originally. I could bend steel with my mind, transfigure stone into feathers with a touch. As far as the scientists who had worked on me knew, I could influence reality at will. Which was why they had marked me dangerous.

Out of all the others, I was the one put under the most surveillance, locked up in a cell deep beneath the earth with a collar around my neck, easily activated with a press of a button to stab me with a needle, inject me with a tranquilizer. Despite my abilities, I was still human, still sensitive, vulnerable—I had my weaknesses, my biggest being my emotions. I couldn't keep my abilities in check once my thoughts enveloped my brain, memories and past traumas I could never quite remember sneaking up behind me, turning me into a ticking time bomb as my power was severely connected to my emotions.

In one instance, during the initial phases of their experiment, I had undergone a series of trials in what they called ‘ a controlled environment’, which had resulted in the decimation of apparently priceless lab equipment. They had designed a better space for each of us after that.

I guess the name they had given me fit particularly well: Red. Danger, destruction, war.

Because that was what I was meant for, why they had taken me, why they had trained me, experimented on me. All of us, all the Colors, the subjects in the Lab were part of an elaborate scheme by some wealthy, powerful, private organization that was funded by even more powerful authorities; various government agencies and militaries all over the world sponsored their research, to create beings, people who were broken down into a shell of a person, turned into nothing but pawns for even bigger players.

We were meant to be sold like cattle, handed off to the highest bidder until our eventual slaughter when we were deemed no longer useful for the cause we served.

They had toyed with my biological make up, while playing God, all for the sake of science, for the sake of warfare, to turn me into a weapon for justice, as they had claimed.

They got their weapon.

I got cheated out of a normal life.

They had tried to get us all to trust them, pacifying us with their acts of 'parenting'. They tried to get close to us in order to buy our trust. They were kind, sweet, even, those few scientists that were sent to study us, posing as our caretakers, our friends. In my initial years of being there, I will admit their tactics worked.

Dr. Peters had been the one assigned to me.

I remember her clearly, chestnut, graying hair neatly tucked into a bun, a pencil poking out from it which she would often use to take down notes. As stubborn and unyielding as I was, she remained patient, as most loving parents would. Whenever I would ignore her attempts of speaking to me, she would smile, hand reaching into the pocket of her lab coat in order to give me little treats, sometimes toys for me to play with.

"Okay, Red, we don't have to do anything today, we don't even have to talk," my eyes followed her hand as she shuffled through her pockets, my eyes flickering crimson as my nerves took over. Usually I would have been met with a swift click of a button, passing out from the tranquilizer, eventually being locked in my room, any playtime privileges stripped away from me as punishment. But not with Dr. Peters, never with her.

She reached out her hand towards me, unfolding her fist to reveal a candy wrapped in colorful foil.

"Would you like a bonbon?" She said, in her peculiar accent.

I blinked, still suspicious, but being a curious child, I hesitantly took it from her anyway.

"Go on, place it in your mouth, eat it, it's sweet."

I did as I was told, and she was right. As the candy melted, I could taste the saccharine flavor of caramel, rolling the candy on my tongue as I savored its flavor.

"I could eat just about a dozen of those, wouldn't you?"

My mouth twitched upwards in a small smile, my eyes crinkled as I nodded my head yes.

It took a while for me to open up to her, to be totally comfortable under her care, but eventually we had reached a point in time where I would sway my legs as I sat giddily waiting for her arrival.

"Would you mind telling me how your day went?" She asked, picking out the pencil from her hair as she readied herself to take down notes.

“Teacher said I was making progress with my Russian,” I answered, grinning from ear to ear. It was required for each of us to undergo some form of education; we had been taught mathematics, reading, writing, placing an emphasis on learning language so we could effectively communicate with whoever official we were given to, so that we could understand and easily collect information if ever we were to become spies.

“Oh? That’s great, Red.” Dr. Peters scribbled on her notepad.

My expression soon turned sour as I crossed my arms.

“But I failed my trial today, even when I spent the entire week training really hard.”

She looked up from her notes for a moment, pausing her writing as she put the pencil down on the table.

“Why is that?”

“I..I got frustrated. I wanted to turn a book into water, but I accidentally burnt it.” My head hung low in shame, I toyed with my fingers nervously as I remembered that embarrassing moment, my hand placed atop the leather bound book, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It had been there for about thirty minutes before I gave up, letting out an exasperated scream, and before I knew it I had accidentally let out a burst of energy from my fingers, burning through the book and table, leaving nothing but ash and molten metal.

“Can you tell me specifically what it was that made you so frustrated?”

I took in a breath in an attempt to calm my heart that beat erratically, my fingers gripping the hem of the polka dotted gown we were all made to wear when we weren’t in training; whispers, voices swirling in my head until I heard a heart wrenching scream. I shut my eyes tightly, shaking my head.

“Red? It’s alright, take your time. Take in another breath for me, okay? Hold it in for a little bit, yes, that’s it, then exhale slowly. There we go.”

Her calming voice and comforting words had managed to still my heartbeat for a moment, silencing the endless whispers in my head. I opened my eyes.

“I just want to be good enough.” I whispered, slowly looking up at her with glossy eyes.

“You are good enough, Red. You just need to learn to control your feelings. Easy peasy, right?”

I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek.

“What makes you feel that way? Why do you feel as if you don’t have control over your emotions?”

“I-I hear whispers, see things, in my head. It gets too full to think properly.”

She leans back into her chair, sharp gray eyes observing me for a moment before she smiled, reaching out for my hand that now sat on the cool, metal table between us.

“You’re always in control of your thoughts, remember that. No one is stopping you from reaching your full potential except you. Is there anything that helps quiet down your mind?”

“Your voice.” I answer, voice barely above a whisper, afraid of how she would react.

But a small, gentle smile is still stretched upon her lips as I say that, her thumb rubbing the back of my hand soothingly.

“Okay, how about you imagine there’s a little me inside your head, protecting you from your intrusive thoughts? Would that help?”

I nod, my worries now melting away as she met my nervousness with kindness, never fearing me for what I could do, unlike the others that had been assigned to me in the past.

She takes her hand off mine, grabbing her pencil as she continued to write down on her notepad. “Good.”

….

Shortly after that meeting with her, I had started to grasp my powers more, shaking off the thoughts that spun around my head, remembering her gentle touch and comforting voice each time I had ever doubted myself. My improvement was slow, but steady, consistent. Since my failure of that one particular test involving the transfiguration of a book, I had been given smaller tasks.

My eyes started to emit a soft, scarlet glow as my finger swirled around in a glass of water, Dr. Peters and other scientists monitoring from a window in an observation box a few feet above me.

I inhaled, held my breath for a brief moment, and exhaled, closing my eyes, focusing on my intentions. The coolness of the water had been replaced with soft, gritty dirt. As I opened my eyes, the glass was now full of soil. I took my finger out, smiling so widely the ends of my mouth hurt as I looked up at the window, seeing Dr. Peters in silent discussion with the other scientists, before she turned to me momentarily, flashing me a small smile.

That gesture meant the world to me then.

After that, I had been given slightly more complicated tasks: shooting blasts of energy at targets, manipulating the atoms to move so fast that a metal rod would melt, turning it into a molten, mercury-like substance with just my intense stare.

I had been happy then, smiling to myself each time I had accomplished something, as small or complicated as it had been. Relishing in the compliments Dr. Peters had showered me with, giddily accepting the gifts she would give me as a congratulations; from raggedy Anne dolls to chocolate truffles, I welcomed them all.

But my utmost favorite one was the book she handed me, ‘The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland’. It was small and compact, fitting perfectly in the big pockets of her coat, it was bound in leather dyed blue, it’s title stamped on with gold leaf in elegant scrollwork. The pages were yellowed and worn, but I loved it anyway.

“It’ll be our little secret.” She had winked at me. Normally, any book such as the one she had given me were forbidden. We were only ever permitted to read the ones approved by Teacher, books and encyclopedias based on facts, filling our minds with knowledge and useful information, not senseless ideas of fantasy worlds. Nevertheless I rejoiced, completely enthralled in stories of talking animals and cakes that could make you grow ten feet tall.

“Red, we’re friends now, aren’t we?” She had asked, I only hummed in response as I flipped through the pages of the book, entranced as I quickly scanned over the words.

“Then call me Amelia.”

I looked up, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I know your name,” she shrugged. “Now you know mine. I’m Amelia.”

I smiled, my heart leaping out of my chest as I had found a friend, someone to confide in, someone to trust.

“Okay,” I breathed out. “Amelia.” Her name rolled off my tongue so sweetly I felt as if my entire being was flooded with happiness.

….

One day, during one of our routinely meetings, I sat at the chair, practically bouncing around in excitement as I anticipated her arrival. She came into the room, smiling at me softly as a greeting, holding the door open for someone else: a man, with slicked back hair, finely dressed in a formal gray suit.

“Red, this is Dr. Brenner.”

The man greeted me with a gentle nod, a smile decorating his lips.

“Hello.”

I regarded him silently, following each of his movements the moment he had entered. My guard was up, naturally, not many of us were accustomed to strangers.

Sensing my unease, Amelia spoke.

“Dr. Brenner is a friend, aren’t you, Doctor?” She looked his way.

“Yes, yes, I’m a friend. Nothing to worry about, little one.” His hand was stretched out before me for a handshake. I shook his hand, slowly, my small hand felt even tinier against his much larger one.

“Now, Dr. Brenner here is very interested in you, and what you can do. I know you just spent most of your day training, but do you think you can show him what exactly it is you can do?” Her eyebrows turned upwards slightly, signaling that it was okay for me to say no, but I fed off of her praise, off of other’s approval. So I nodded.

Who was I to refuse?

I stood in the middle of the training room, various objects set atop a metal table, practice dummies placed on the opposite side of the room. I looked up at the observation deck, behind the toughened glass there stood Dr. Peters and Dr. Brenner, watching me intently.

I swallowed, feeling my nerves begin to take over as my fingers twitched, thoughts swirled around in my head, images flashed and muffled voices reverberated in my skull. I paused, took in a deep breath, remembered Amelia’s soft smile, her comforting words, the warmth of her hand atop mine, and for a moment my mind was quiet.

I stepped towards the table, my hand reaching out for the car battery. I could feel the energy within it, each electrolyte, every atom that pulsated with energy. As I lay my hand atop it with my eyes closed, I felt a surge, a jolt of electricity as I sucked all of the energy into myself.

Once I had opened my eyes, they began to glimmer red. My arm twitched as I removed my hand from the battery, turning around to face the target dummies. I let my fingers dance, collecting the energy I had just harnessed, forming a small, glowing crimson ball of power, bolts of electricity connecting it to my fingers as I gathered it in my palm. I flung my hand back and threw it forward, commanding the ball of energy to hit exactly where I wanted it to.

Despite my nervousness, it did as I had willed it to; hitting the mannequin-like subject straight through the chest, blasting a hole right through it. I glanced upwards to see the two in deep discussion, Dr. Brenner nodding along to Dr. Peters’ words as he turned to me.

I spun around, set on displaying more of my abilities, to bathe in praise and be met with a proud smile from my mentor. I focused my gaze on a vase, willing it’s porcelain to melt and transfigure into water. I glared at it, narrowing my brows in concentration. Nothing.

My eyes shone a bright maroon as I reached my arm forward, fingers twitching, trembling, but no matter how hard I tried, nothing happened, the vase remained a vase.

I shut my eyes closed.

The whispers, the voices. They were back.

‘You can’t do this.’

‘Get away from her!’

‘Stop, please, don’t—‘

A scream, a guttural, animalistic, scream resounded in my mind, only for me to let out a torn, frustrated yell, sending a shockwave of red energy throughout the room, causing the entire room to shake, knocking over the test dummies and flipping the table over.

Next thing I knew, I was on the floor, knees scraping against concrete as I held my hands over my ears, grabbing at my hair, refocusing on the present, mustering all my willpower to ignore the endless noise that reverberated in my brain.

My breathing turned ragged as I looked up, both doctors now had concerned looks on their faces as they disputed amongst each other, Dr. Peters hands now flying into the air in erratic gestures as Dr. Brenner shook his head.

I bit my lip, forced myself to stand, barely any of my own thoughts in my head as I went to pick up a stone. I held it in my hand, my eyes glued shut as my brows knitted together.

Dr. Brenner’s eyes caught sight of me in his peripheral vision, training his gaze upon me as the rock in my hand had begun to emit sparks from where it met my flesh, until it was completely engulfed in fire; eventually turning into nothing but smoke.

I snapped my eyes open, blinking rapidly as I felt the room turn around me, before my vision blurred and I was met with only darkness.

….

I gasped for air, jolting myself awake. I was in the clinic, at the foot of the bed stood Dr. Brenner, Dr. Peters, and a nurse, murmuring amongst themselves, the subject I presumed to be myself.

Realizing I was awake, Dr. Peters was quick to be at my side.

“That was quite the performance, Red. I’m proud.” She stroked my forehead, tucking a stray hair behind my ear.

“Indeed it was.” Came Dr. Brenner’s voice, he looks at Amelia sternly before glancing at me.

“You still have that book I gave you? All those trinkets I gifted you?” She asks, sweetly, almost too pleasant for my liking.

Dazed, I nodded my head, eyes flickering towards Dr. Brenner.

“Alright, you’ll have to bring them with you okay? You’ll need to pack up soon.”

A breath hitched in my throat, panic crawling up my spine at her words. I furrowed my eyebrows, my mouth set in a frown.

“What do you mean?”

She inhaled before gesturing towards Dr. Brenner. “We’ll be taking you to a different facility now, you’ll be transferred under the care of Dr. Brenner and his team from now on.”

I used to admire her candor, Dr. Peters had always spoken to me gently, yet she never hid anything from me, as far as I had known. She hadn’t sugarcoated her words nor told me any lie straight to my face, she had treated me as her equal, always laying down the truth in front of me as it was.

I had never disdained that characteristic of hers until this moment.

“What? You—you can’t take me away, I’m not done yet, I’m not ready—“

“You’ll be fine, Red. Dr. Brenner is the best there is, you’ll be far better off under his care than here.” She placed a hand on my back, attempting to soothe me in my panicked state.

“As soon as we know you’re better you’ll be with me from now own, I promise to be a father to you, a Papa—“ Dr. Brenner had uttered, reaching out to hold my hand only for me to flinch away from his touch.

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed, so loudly that my throat burned, my eyes glowed a dangerous red, the fluorescent lights above us flickered erratically.

I turned towards Dr. Peters, reaching for her, grabbing at her lab coat as my vision blurs, tears stinging my eyes. “Please don’t let me go, I want to stay here, with you—“

“The decision has been made, Red. And that’s final.” She twists away from me, tearing my hands from her as she steps away.

“No! No, you can’t!” I yell, a lightbulb exploded as I did so, then another, and another after that, each one bursting towards the spot we were in, my eyes glowed as I glared at Dr. Brenner who stood up, slowly backing away from me, still muttering words about how I needed to calm down. How dare he? How dare he try to take me away from the only person who had treated me with kindness, humility? The woman I could ever remotely regard as a mother figure?

“I’m not going! I’m staying here!” I pounded my fists on the bed to emphasize every word, screaming furiously as I felt energy gather in my palms.

I don’t know what would have happened if Dr. Peters hadn’t pressed the button of the remote to my collar, what I would have done if I hadn’t passed out then and there.

The next thing I knew, I laid on a bed, in a bare, unfamiliar room.

Dr. Brenner sat at my side, along with a blonde man, his sharp cheekbones cast a shadow down his cheeks.

I blinked, attempting to reach for my forehead to rub it. I had always done my best to keep my emotions in check, not only for the safety of those around me, but because the side effects of the drug they would inject into my neck to tranquilize me were always painful. My muscles were sore, as if I had been straining them for hours, and my head was racked with the worst migraines possible. To my surprise, my wrists were bound in leather to the bed frame.

I stared up at the two men, fearful and panicked as the skin on my arms prickled with goosebumps.

“Red, this is Peter Ballard,” he gestures towards the man beside him, who was donned in all white attire, a small smile on his face.

“He will be your ward.”

…..

taglist: @preciousbabypeter @nightless

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson smut #peter ballard #001 stranger things #001

237 notes · View notes

cirilla-fiona-riannon · 2 years

Text

General Elections 2022

Kenshin’s Special Story

Today I'm visiting "Reichenbach" where Kenshin works.

Mai: "Wow! Even the things on the table look authentic."

As I looked around the café from my seat, I noticed that the place was full of items that reminded me of a detective.

Kenshin: "Even if we hear the word detective, we really don't understand it."

Kenshin: "So we thought it would be more fitting to put some detective-related items."

(As a formality, he and the other waiters are dressed as detectives.)

Mai: "Hehe, I'm glad to see you as a detective."

I couldn't help but look at him in his outfit, trying my best to burn him into my memory.

(His outfit is different from his usual kimono, but gosh, he really is a feast for the eyes.)

(A lot of unexpected things happened, but I'm glad to be back here!)

Mai: "How are the clothes?"

Kenshin: "I like that it's easy to move in."

Kenshin: "I'm just not used to having my sword taken away from me."

(He's still the same even here. Hm?)

Suddenly, I noticed a small wooden box on the table.

I lifted it in my hand to check it out and ask.

Mai: "Kenshin, what’s this box?"

Kenshin: "It's a kumiki puzzle."

Mai: "I see. So the riddle is this little thing."

Kenshin: "If you can open the box, you'll get a special dessert made by me."

Mai: "Really!?"

Kenshin: "Yeah, that's the rule."

Mai: "Then let's crack this thing open!"

I held the small box again with both hands, ready to give it a try.

I tried moving and pushing it then the kumiki piece moved faintly.

Mai: "Hmm... Some parts are moving, but I don't know the right order."

Kenshin: ".............."

I made some progress, but halfway through it, the parts stopped moving for some reason.

I was silently struggling to win Kenshin's homemade dessert, when...

Kenshin: "Mai."

Mai: "What's wron―mn…"

I looked up from the box when he called out to me, and he softly took my lips.

Mai: "Um. Kenshin?"

Kenshin: "Think of me instead of that puzzle."

Mai: "Eh..."

Kenshin: "I hate it when the box takes up so much of your attention."

Kenshin: "Above all, I can make you as many of my homemade desserts as you want."

(Then what's the point of solving this puzzle?!)

I was surprised to see how his jealousy of the box made him break the rules so easily, but at the same time, I find it adorable to know the depth of his feelings for me never changed, even after becoming a detective.

Mai: "Okay. Then I'll look at you, not the box."

Kenshin: "That's fine."

As if to praise me for putting down the box, he gently stroked my cheek―my heartbeat jumping sweetly at his slightest touch.

Mai: "By the way, what kind of dessert is it?"

Kenshin: "For some reason, they forbid me from using pickled plums, but I made plum jellies."

Kenshin: "And of course, I'm only going to feed it to you. I'll get it right away."

Mai: "Okay!"

More than any mystery, his smile grabbed my heart.

I kept staring at his lovely back as he walked to the kitchen.

𝓕𝓲𝓷.

❣ Ikesen General Elections Masterlist

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen kenshin #kenshin uesugi #ikesen jp #ikesen #cybird #ikemen series #ikesen translations

30 notes · View notes

universestreasures · 1 year

Text

@blasterdiablo Sent: An 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐀 Sentence Starter (Accepting!)

❝ i mean it was nice on the hanger, but it looks even better on you. ❞ [@ Misaki Broken verseee

The Queen of Heart’s unbirthday.

Arguably the most important holiday in the Wonderland calendar, and one Kai had been spending weeks preparing for. Not that she herself was keen on celebrating it. It was a day that used to hold happy memories for her, but they weren’t the same without all of her loved ones to celebrate it with her. Her mother, her father, her uncle, Ren...all of them were gone from her life in one way or another, whether taken from her by humans clad in blue, by unknown reasons, or by madness that came with taking one’s assigned role. The celebration didn’t feel the same without them there, so why should she even care?

Though, this years celebration was...different than the years before. Kai had been there when she woke up, giving her the special unbirthday breakfast she used to enjoy when she was younger but remained once again untouched aside from a few bites of jelly toast and some black coffee. It was only after breakfast that he suddenly...left her side, leaving a card guard to escort her through the schedule for the day until he comes back from whatever the urgent thing he needed to do was.

The entire thing was odd. Was he planning some kind of unbirthday surprise? Like how her parents and Uncle Shin used to? She didn’t know, but as the day went on she couldn’t help but start to feel...worried. It was an emotion she had not felt in so long. Why would she need to when Kai and Miwa took care of everything for her? But with things being so...uncertain at this moment, with the day getting closer and closer to shifting until the night, she couldn’t help but feel such a thing strongly.

And she wasn’t taking it well.

It was on display throughout the day, but especially apparent during her fitting with the Mad Hatter. Normally she stood still and quiet during these, like a mannequin or a doll. However, her usually cold body started to get warmer, her body was sweating, and she was irritated by the the lace of the pair of gloves he had made for her. The entire thing was overwhelming, not surprising since her heart had been closed off and cold for so many years now.

❝ i mean it was nice on the hanger, but it looks even better on you. ❞

The voice of the Hatter draws Misaki’s attention away from her irritation, shifting her gaze from the broken clock in the room towards him. He had gone on with his fitting like nothing was wrong, despite the fact something was obviously wrong! If Kai or Miwa were here, they’d surely notice. They always noticed how she was feeling, even without words needing to be spoken. And without them here, without their support, that loneliness she’s long since feared would consume her starts to as she is forced to rely on herself to fix things. Guess it was time for her to start acting like a queen, then.

“Knock it off...” Her voice is low, but the power behind it made up for the low volume. Hands move to grip at the ends of the laced gloves, Misaki showing no restraint as she uses all her might to tear them off of her body. The queen showed no care for the work he put into the clothing with her display, despite the beauty of the clothes themselves. She just wanted it off and wanted it off fast, her instincts driving her to be the complete opposite of what her usual demeaner was: to be big and loud so that others will listen.

Seems like the day had come...where her destiny was to finally take it’s grip on her, the very thing Kai’s efforts had been delaying this entire time in an effort to keep her stable...

And there was no turning back this clock...no matter how hard the White Rabbit may try...

“I SAID KNOCK IT OFF! I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE!”

The ground shakes at her words, Misaki releasing a red wave of energy from the center of her heart that rips some of the fabric off of her and then shoots throughout Wonderland to be seen by all. Dull red roses that covered the castle garden suddenly became much more vibrant, along with every single other red object in the land. Color had returned for the first time in ages, a sign the citizens might take as that things were finally shifting towards returning to normal after years of stagnation. Little did they know that the changes were only just beginning, for both them and the Queen of Hearts.

The young woman now clad in a torn dress due to her power breathes heavily, sweat dripping down her face as a hand is placed over her heart. For the first time in ages, she takes notice of her heartbeat. It was moving, painfully so, but still moving strong. And it felt...felt odd...

“What...What is this...This feeling...” She speaks, but more to herself than to the other in the room. Her gaze then shifts to the other human, her expression twisting from one of confusion to one of angered desperation. “Answer me, Hatter! What’s...What’s happening to me?! Why does...Why does my chest...hurt so much? And where is...”

Water soon forms in her eyes, another display that had been absent from the Queen since the early days after the incident. Legs buckle beneath her as she drops to the ground in the center of the Hatter’s workshop. She...She was breaking like glass when too much pressure was being placed on it, but...just how much could she take?

“And where is Kai?! Where is my rabbit?! Why...Why isn’t here here?! When...When I need him!”

#💎 King Of The Blasters Of Darkness (Blasterdiablo)#💎 Memory Treasure (Misaki Tokura)#💎 Memory Answers (Misaki Asks)#💎 Memory's Broken Royal Heart Of Hearts (Misaki Broken Wonderland AU)#tw long post #tw mention of death #(AM I TOTALLY USING THIS ASK FOR US TO WRITE OUT THE REN REVEALS THE SECRETS TO MISAKI YES. YES I AM #(POOR KAIS OUT WITH AICHI #(THANKS TO RENS PLAN #(WHICH RENS PLAN BASICLLY IS FORCING MISAKI TO INITIATE HERSELF TO START ACTING LIKE THE QUEEN #(WHICH SHE HASNT REALLY GOTTEN TO DO #(WHICH AGAIN PART OF RENS PLAN #(AND NOW REN CAN WIPE MISAKI'S TEARS AWAY SEEING THOSE IS HIS FINAL LIKE STRAW TO DROP THE LORE BOMB #(LIKE OH YEAH KAIS THE REASON YOU AND ALL OF US ARE SUFFERING BTW HES A JERK LMFAO

1 note · View note

intizzies · 2 years

Text

JAM SANDWICHES - a study in connie and childhood .

pls do not read if you’re easily triggered . implications of sa , abuse & drug usage .

“It’s jelly, not jam!”

Hazy memories are still jarring, softly seeping through her mind as she drifts off to sleep.

“I don’t care, my Daddy calls it jam!”

Little girl wearing brown boots glares at her friend playing in the stream, brown hair in two thick plaits, resting on her shoulders. Brown eyes narrowed in conflict, staring straight into blue eyes opposite.

Wendy, her friend, places little hands on her hips. She has a little smirk on her little face and she giggles a little giggle.

“Your Daddy is stupid. Jam’s not an American word.” she raises her little eyebrows.

“He’s not American. He’s Irish. And he’s not stupid, you bitch!”

Connie Ripsom makes contact with Wendy’s face with her fist and she bolts upright.

Her room is white and chipped and peeling like her lipstick she hasn’t taken off. Anger fills her throat till she can’t swallow and she’s frozen like she always is until she moves her fist. This time, it’s shaking, and she unfurls her fingers to take the week old bottle of water from the floor beside her bed.

“Don’t drink that, Connie! It’s a week old at least. Who knows how long it’s been there?” A woman hisses from the front seat. She’s sulking because her husband has forgotten to pack drinks for their lunch. From the middle seat, a young girl with dark brown hair in pigtails sips on a carton of apple juice. Her Mother always carries one in her purse. It’s the girl’s favourite.

Connie puts the bottle back, one leg crossed over the other. Her shorts are too short and she knows it, but she’s practically an adult now, so it doesn’t matter. She’s not. She’s thirteen.

The back of her neck burns but she doesn’t move her legs. She knows he’s watching from the other side of their sister. She still doesn’t move her legs…

“I made jam sandwiches, kiddos.” Connie’s Dad puts his thumbs up in the driver’s seat. Connie’s heart stutters and she smiles just slightly.

She crumples up the plastic in her hand and unscrews the top, shaking hands powdery - the remains of something she also had under her nose. She throws her head back and chokes on stale water, oxidised and poisonous. She thinks it tastes worse for her than the angeldust she had earlier. Her Mother was right.

Her head swims and rocks like a boat and she hates how sick she feels in the pit of her stomach. The front door clicks open and slams shut and Connie’s breathing becomes laboured. She crawls across her bed and her eyes fall on her tatty old teddy bear with a stained bowtie. That bear has never been washed.

Teddy bear and glass of milk in hand, rosy-cheeked Connie Ripsom bites into a strawberry jam sandwich. Her older brother bites into his strawberry jam sandwich, too. Jam spills out of the sides. Connie giggles and Randy grins, wiggling his sticky fingers at her.

Her little sister cries from her highchair and her Mother picks her up. Connie and Randy stop grinning and observe their Mother coo at the perfect little baby. The woman smiles down at the tiny human and looks up.

“Wash your hands. You’ll get jelly everywhere.” she rolls her eyes and carries Betty upstairs.

Connie whispers ‘jam’ under her breath and her brother peels back the bread from his meal. He scoops up the filling with his finger and leans across the table, unceremoniously wiping it on Connie’s nose. She laughs a laugh only a three and a half year old girl could laugh, and she claps.

“Jam.” Randy nods and licks his fingers.

She can’t leave her teddy there. She picks him up and throws him under her bed.

“Connie!”

She wishes she could still fit under there, too.

“Connie!”

Fourteen year old Randy Ripsom has his friends over. They’d been giving each other chinese burns in the room next door. She has to be ready. She’d been cross-legged on her little bed since they’d come home from playing in the stream, staring at the wall at the end of her room, her teddy in her arms. Connie’s nails dug so hard into his fur that the stitching beneath was starting to fray.

And when he calls her name, she takes her teddy and wriggles under her bed. The record playing in the next room is suddenly louder and distorted in her little twelve year old mind. She wishes he wouldn’t call her name like that, she wishes he wouldn’t even notice her. Maybe this time -

There’s a herd of footsteps down the landing, bare wooden planks ricocheting echoes across the house. Her Mother has to have heard, please, this one time…

Maybe this time -

All five of them are over today. She sees the pairs of shoes in her doorway as it’s flung open in a hurry.

“Connie, you’re so stupid. That never works.”

Her neck feels fuzzy, like she’s stood too close to the fire. There’s a hand on her hair and it yanks, but she doesn’t feel anything. She crawls out from under her bed, and there’s laughter.

“What are you doing with this thing? You’re too old for teddies now.” Randy grabs her toy and drops it immediately. “What the hell is that shit on it?” His friends laugh harder.

She doesn’t like how he’s saying it. Doesn’t he remember the jam sandwiches they had for lunch? Connie hates teenage boys.

“Have you been playing without us? I thought I told you not to…”

There’s a clink of metal, a zip and Connie’s mind goes blank, fuzzy like her neck.

“What the fuck do you want?” she groans, voice faint and wavering. She doesn’t like the way it comes out. Whatever she’s taken is still in her system.

“Sounds like you’re happy to see me.” eighteen year old Randy leans in her doorway. His arms are smudged with motor grease. Connie hates the way his tank top parades his muscles like they’re things she shouldn’t be scared of. “What are you on?” he takes off his combat boots and throws them across her room, already reaching to his belt.

“I ‘unno. Whatever was on the fucking table.” she shuffles across her bed to sit on her pillow.

“Why are you wearing that?” her brother’s nose crinkles in self-repulsion as he looks her up and down.

“Thought I’d get my Betty on, Randy-Pandy,” Connie cackles her spiteful little laugh only a fifteen year old girl could laugh. “Why, don’t you like it?” she flips her hair, hands on her hips, kneeling forward.

Reginald “Belch” Huggins is thoroughly distracted. He’s caught her and Henry will be mad, but this is definitely a first.

Connie Ripsom flips her hair as she sits on the grassy bank next to him, on her knees, leaning forward, fluttering her eyelashes. Her breath smells like strawberry jam.

He’s got to admit, she’s pretty. Eyes like a bug’s and a nose like a pug’s, but pretty.

Plus, she’s hot now. His eyes snap back up to meet hers again.

“Come on Belchy Baby, you don’t want to let Henry have all the fun, do you?” she grins lopsidedly, screaming at herself in her head. Calm down, Connie, she tells herself. She supposes it’s fun… And it’s not like he’s someone else she’d rather not think about.

“I dunno, Henry-”

“I won’t get you into trouble. I’ll still be here to entertain Henry when we’re done. You just have to take me somewhere quieter, that’s all.” Connie’s bug-eyes flicker from Belch’s to the long grass over his shoulder. They’d be catching up soon, and she doesn’t want to face Henry Bowers and Patrick Hocksetter and least of all Victor Criss. Least of all Victor Criss because she actually likes him.

“... Okay.”

It’s easier to fuck up with people you don’t like.

“Got a light?”

“You don’t like your other sister so much, do you?” she reaches for her lighter balancing on the windowsill.

“Shut up, you little bitch.” Randy spits at her. He knows she’s done this on purpose. She knows it too, although maybe influenced by her state of mind.

“No, that’s Betty. I’m a jammy cow, remember?” Connie laughs again, and Randy snaps. He takes his big beefy hands and slams them into the side of his younger sister’s face, pressing her head against the wall. She’s still laughing.

Connie tries to remember when she stopped trying to fight back.

The pressure from Randy’s fingers increases as he pushes down, Connie’s head pounding. She wonders when it’ll be over. Maybe he’ll make her head explode and all her brains will flop out onto his hands.

And like that, Randy freezes.

“What can I smell?” he asks, the same self-repulsed look of disgust creeping across his face.

“Made you a jam sammy.” Connie gestures with her hand (as her head is currently occupied).

“You did what?” the older boy’s voice is far away.

“Strawberry.”

She crawls out from under Randy’s grip and offers him the plate on the nightstand. He takes half of the sandwich and she takes the other.

Connie sits next to her brother, mascara smudged as usual. She closes her eyes and lets the flavour of the strawberry take over the metallic sting of the blood on the inside of her cheek.

She wonders if her Dad will notice they’re out of jam.

Probably not.

She bites down onto the inside of her cheek and swallows.

Connie opens her eyes and resolves to buy herself a jar.

#↳ ❤ ⸺ connie #oh my god this is FUCKED up why did i write it #anyways im proud of it

0 notes