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#our req.
chenfordsource · 4 months
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chenford + it's about the hands requested by anonymous
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hoshiina · 3 months
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pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)
request: hii ive been superr into kn8 recently and was wondering if i could req a lil hoshina fic/ imagine wherein theyre in an established relationship and like no one knows and reader can be like a capt or vice capt from a diff division who was visiting or like was also assigned to the same mission/ is the back up and if its ok to req that reader’s fighting style is like that of shinobu’s where its more on piercing motions rather than slicing. im a sucker for secret relationships where they just dont say it out loud but theyre not exactly hiding it either. thank uu
notes: you have a horrible ex (gender not mentioned), TYSM FOR THE REQ im so sorry it took so long to get to
wc: 1900
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You didn’t have a good prior experience with dating in secret. Or rather, you had an awful experience before so near the beginning of your relationship when you had to decide what to do, it was a rather tough decision to make. You and Hoshina had been close friends since far before this relationship and so he knew all about how your ex had been seeing other people while keeping your relationship “private”. It was a no-brainer for him truly— he had told you that he thought to make it public before you had even mentioned it, but you asked him to wait a little first. While it thrilled you that he wouldn’t even hesitate to make your relationship known, he was the vice-captain of the famous 3rd division at the end of the day, and you were also a vice-captain yourself. If you had disclosed this to even your fellow officers, it would make it out somehow and that would make it a relatively big deal.
That being said, it still frightened you to keep a relationship private even if you knew Hoshina would never do anything horrible, making it a rather difficult decision for you to make.
Yet as time passed, you felt sure that you were okay with it being private. Rather, you almost preferred it that way. You the way Hoshina’s face would light up when you walked into a room and it would have people questioning him, only for him to smile and play it off somehow. Yet, he'd hold eye contact with you from across the room and smile— just at you. He'd very obviously look for excuses to come visit your division when he could get anyone else in the 3rd division to grab some documents— anyone who wasn't the vice-captain with loads and loads of things to do, yet only you would see the look he gave you when he walked into your captain's office. He’d then find time to pop by your office just to say a quick “love you” before he’d hurry back to his division to tackle the mountain of work he’d given himself. It was silly; there was no need for him to do so for a couple more minutes with someone he lived with, but he loved to be with you and you loved to be with him. And he'd do anything to make you happy.
Before you knew it, you were fine. Hoshina had washed away all the remaining hurt you felt from your past relationship, and you felt so safe with him. You were fine now.
“Soushirou, I think we should date secretly,” you said to him one day, and immediately he stopped what he was doing to sit next to you.
“Why?” he asked, eyes wide and tone serious. “I think we should share. If you're concerned about the media, surely it won't get out that quickly.” His voice softened. “Moreover, I'd like to brag about my lovely partner.”
You shook your head. “I'm alright now, Soushirou,” you said, softly but surely. “You make me feel alright.”
The look on his face softened and he looked so full of love it made you fluster. See? You'd be damned to let alone else see such an expression on his face.
“I'm thrilled,” he said, and you laughed a little. “No, I really am. How about we just tell close friends for now? And we can always tell more people later on. I'm serious when I say I want to brag about you a little.”
“That sounds great,” you said, a soft smile on your face. “I have some people I've been dying to share this news with too.”
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It had been almost a year since the two of you started dating, and while you were both getting used to dating in secret by now, Hoshina was starting to get comfortable around you in public… almost a little too comfortable.
In the recent turn of events, the entire defense force had been far busier than ever, giving you both more work and less time to spend together. Although both of you loved the work you did, it was needless to say that you missed each other. A lot. This started to lead to quick kisses in an empty hallway or longing stares from across the meeting that lasted a little too long. You'd scold him later at night that people were going to start questioning it, but he truly couldn't care less anymore.
“But baby,” he said, his arms pulling you close. “I miss you.”
Your heart tightened as you leaned into his touch. You were in his room to wish him goodnight and scold him a little before you went to bed. You were calling it a day, but unfortunately, he wasn’t just yet. Your hands cupped his face as you rubbed your thumbs along his exhausted eyes. He didn’t need much sleep to keep him going, so he didn't really get eyebags, but you could tell he was tired.
“I miss you too,” you said and something in your heart broke a little. “If only we were in the same division at least.”
“Oh, if only,” he said.
“Soushirou, will you sleep soon?” you asked.
“I’m not sure…” he said, looking at the mountain of binders on his desk from all the research he was doing.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” you asked. “It’s probably quicker if we do it together.”
“No, go sleep,” he said. “It’s late enough as it is.”
“Then, together?” you asked, hopefully. It had been so long since he was last by your side while you fell asleep. “You look exhausted.”
He smiled softly and closed his laptop.
"Yeah," he said. "It's been a while since I fell asleep with you."
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However, yet another week had gone by and there was no end to the work, and you were both utterly frustrated you couldn’t see each other. More of your kisses had been shared in empty offices than at home lately, and dinner was really the only time you had together. So at some point, you stopped caring about keeping your relationship private— if they find out, they find out.
It truly felt like a miracle when it was announced your division would be backing up the 3rd division in another kaiju attack. You had been so sick of watching Hoshina come home horribly beat up all the time ever since the kaiju attacks were often centred around the 3rd division base. You’d finally be of some help and you'd get to work with him.
Like Hoshina, you specialized in neutralizing smaller kaiju, and like Hoshina, you wielded a sword. Your division was only backing up the 3rd division, so you got to watch Hoshina expertly cut down kaiju and neutralize them while you made sure smaller yoju weren’t getting away. You loved watching Hoshina do what he did— there was such beauty in the way he used his blades. To others, it may look like some flashy moves from someone brimming with talent, but any sword user would see the careful foundational work behind every swing he did. It was truly nothing other than stunning to watch.
Yet, as more kaiju came his way and his suit seemed closer and closer to overheating, you couldn’t possibly just watch.
“Permission to backup Vice-Captain Hoshina, please,” you asked your operation room through your earpiece.
“Permission granted, please go ahead,” they immediately replied.
“Thank you,” you said and that was all you needed, you were rushing to his side. Oh, how you missed fighting with him. It was back when you were still a regular officer when Hoshina would often make time to help you with ways to use your sword that would fit you more— it’s been an awful long since then.
Hoshina had managed to slice just enough to expose a glimpse of the core, but that was all you needed. If the core was visible, you’d just pierce it— and you did exactly that. While Hoshina would slice at incredible speeds, you would pierce with your sword at precise gaps or points with impact.
“Oh, your work’s fantastic as always,” he said and you rolled your eyes.
“Says who,” you said.
These kaiju were just perfect for the way you worked together. They had an insanely hard shell so Hoshina would crack it in any way possible, and you'd jam your sword precisely into the cracks until you exposed the core. While it was tough work, you were ecstatic. It had been so long since you had worked with Hoshina and it reminded you of all the nights he had spent working with you. You had come so far— and he had been with you to get you this far.
Before you knew it, it was over— the honju had been neutralized and the yoju were taken care of. Before you knew it, Hoshina would be the grand vice-captain of the 3rd division that you had little connection with again.
“Reminded me of all that practice we would do so many years ago,” he said and that made you smile. He had treasured those moments too.
“I would love to tell you from back then that I’d actually make it somewhere,” you said to him. “That you weren’t merely wasting your time.”
“Not once had I not wished to help you,” he said immediately, almost cutting you off. “You couldn't possibly know just how thrilled I was to see another sword user.”
Your heart swelled— he meant the world to you.
There were a few of his officers nearby so you made sure to keep your voice down.
“How long have you loved me?” you asked, simply curious, but as soon as it left your lips you realized how awkward that sounded. “Sorry—”
“For forever,” he said, without hesitation. “Truly since we’d train all those years ago.”
Your eyes widened. You didn't expect that for some reason.
“Gosh, I’m just stupid, aren’t I?” you said, flabbergasted. If you had just cleared your mind, you wouldn’t have gotten played around by that stupid ex of yours and you would’ve been with him for so much longer.
“No,” he said, breaking eye contact, looking horribly ashamed. “I was just lame as hell. If I wasn’t a coward I wouldn’t have let an asshole take you away.”
You laughed. “I think that one was on me,” you said. “It’s okay, we’ll make up for lost time now.”
“Do you know that I love you?” he asked and that made you chuckle. You did.
“I love you too,” you said.
Your conversation was not loud enough for anyone to hear, and that was okay. It was just for the two of you. However, saying all this didn’t change the original problem of the sheer lack of time you had to spend with each other lately— so when were you going to make up for said lost time?
Simple, you’d use the time you had.
Hand-in-hand, you walked off the site together and neither of you could hide the smiles on your faces.
“Soushirou, when’s the last time we held hands?” you asked, and your question made you let out an appalled chuckle.
“Don’t ask,” he said. “I thought of the same thing just now and a part of me died.”
You’d hear other officers gasp softly or murmur when they saw you, but you’d let them wonder. You’d let them wonder why the Hoshina Soushirou looked so bashful, hand-in-hand with you. You'd let them wonder if he always smiled so lovingly around you.
You’d let them wonder if you were his special someone.
And they’d be right. You were.
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nevvn · 2 years
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solomama and lucipapa raising a pack of rowdy kids
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volturissideslut · 9 months
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shy reader holds remus' hand for the first time in public
𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖚𝖘 𝕷𝖚𝖕𝖎𝖓
I took this prompt and i ran with it, enjoyyy!!!
Though you and Remus had been together for a while now - not long having passed that awkward and clunky talking stage - you still hadn't really been physically affectionate with one another. No sex, no kisses, no cuddles, and not even daring to engage in premarital hand holding.
It's not that you didn't want to. You did. You really really did. But every time you wanted to you were left unsure if it was okay to do that. Seeds of self doubt planted themselves in your mind and the longer you let them fester the more they weeded your thoughts. It honestly got to a tiring point, where if the thought of being affectionate with him made your hands clammy and your mind race, heat creeping its way up your neck. And obviously you didn't want him to feel like he had to hold your clammy sweaty hands, it's just... icky.
To put it simply, you had built it all up in your head and it desperately needed to be pulled down from that pedestal.
So now here you were, in the library with Remus, your lovely boyfriend, wondering if it would be okay to hold his hand. He was slouched over (in a posture that was definitely not good for his spinal health in the future) with one hand holding the hard back on the book, and the other lazily resting on the table. Resting mere millimetres from your own hand.
Unconsciously, your hand twitched, like when your body is so filled with emotion and just has to move. Like when you're angry and your jaw and fists clench. Like when you're excited and your hands shake and move and you talk. Like when you're anxious and your leg bounces. Like when you really want to be touching your boyfriend but don't know how to go about it, and your hand twitches.
One slight problem, your hand was so so close to his already that he thought you had tapped him and had put down his book to give you his full attention. And with that adorable small smile of his on his face too.
"You okay, Dove?"
... I mean, it's now or never right?
"Yeah - uhm - Rem, can I please hold your hand?" Why does your throat feel so dry? You had just had a nice cup of tea with him, and now its like you're parched all over again.
And while he notices your rising anxiety and shyness, he pays no mind to it for now. Instead his smile grows wide and smug, eyebrows raised in surprise. But his expression quickly returns to its normal state and his voice is smooth as he speaks, though it doesn't to much to hide his own light blush.
"Of course you can, Dovey"
Like the gentleman he is, he doesn't make too much of a show of it, already knowing the inner turmoil in your mind right now. Instead, he laces his fingers with yours and gives one firm reassuring squeeze and picks up his book. He also gives another squeeze when he feels you tense up and watch someone walk past your little corner of the library, a proud smile hidden behind his book as he physically feels your body relax because of his touch.
But now you know in your head that its okay. Hand holding officially being removed from the pedestal. And he can't even tell your hands are clammy, because his are too.
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starzwithapen · 9 months
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⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑
JOHN DORY / READER ☆ DUET?
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。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
☆summary: Brozone happens to play on the radio, and JD's appalled to find out you're not a fan
☆content: reader is not a pop-troll, reader is gender neutral, lowkey crackfic lmao, established relationship
☆a/n: Silver wrote this one!! And okay we KNOW realistically JD would tell his partner about being in brozone but for the sake of the comedic factor in the fic he's hiding it shshsshshhsbshshsh
⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑
You'd been sitting in the driver's seat, driving Rhonda around [a rare occurrence, but JD indulged you just this once] while John Dory stirred his sugar into his mug, handing you yours with a kiss to your cheek. You nod at him gratefully, looking down at the buttons spread across in front of you, one of them particularly sticking out to you.
“Woah, wait, I didn't know Rhonda had a radio.”
John Dory leans against the back of your seat, arms wrapped around you from behind, “ehh, I don't use it often in case it scares off all the animals.”
He pokes your arm playfully, eyes glancing out the window, “we're pretty far out, though, should be fine to listen to some tunes.”
You insert a random channel number, turning the volume upwards. This one seems to be a host speaking about the weather, so you switch to the next- sounds like a cheesy pop song of some kind, probably a boy band. You snort at the lyrics- you didn't know anyone could fit that many synonyms of “girl” into one song.
You switch onto the next channel without catching John Dory's wide, shit-eating grin, and the immediate way his face practically crumples apart, “wuh- hey, what's wrong with that last song? It was really good.”
“Okay, I know you're a pop-troll,” you start, trying to find a channel with your preferred music, “but you have to remember I'm not. That stuff hurts my ears.”
John Dory leans backwards, arms crossing around his chest, “Okay, yeah, you don't like pop music, but why that song specifically? I was really jamming out to it, y'know.” He makes that smug smile of his that normally has your cheeks heating, “guy's a lyrical genius if you ask me.”
You stare at him, unimpressed, because he's got to be joking if he thinks that song has deep lyrics.
“JD, he just rhymed baby with baby. Three times in a row. Within the same chorus.”
“Hey, it's hard to think of rhymes that don't throw off the choreo, okay?” He points an accusing finger in your direction before pausing, forcing a nonchalant pose and pursing his lips, “Or- uh, or so I've heard.”
“Yeah, yeah, that's what you pop-trolls always say. I think that guy just needs to pick up a dictionary every once in a while.”
You don't actually care about the song that much, but seeing John Dory get this riled up over it is funny enough for you to go further,
“I bet you I could write a better song by the end of the week than that guy has his whole career.”
John Dory's grin turns wolfish, and oh boy, you should've known better than to try and challenge him, even jokingly,
“Oh you bet, do you? We'll see about that.”
—-------------------
This whole thing was going. Uh. Badly.
Your conversation had escalated into another one of your bets, which you surprisingly lose more often than not, most likely because you bite off more than you can chew. John Dory's unfortunately very aware of this, and throws you bait whenever he can. This time was no different. Winner gets one request for the loser.
You are not a song-writer by any means. You're a troll, yes, trolls sing and dance! But you don't write songs! The most experience you have with rhyming is a shitty poem you made as a teenager that never saw the light of day.
You'd started with listening to more of Brozone's music, and okay, you have to admit, some of their songs were actually really good okay. You'd caught yourself humming them more than once throughout the day, and John Dory always gives you that smug look from your peripherals before leaning in to kiss you senseless. He knew you were coming around to them and it was humiliating, and he was also concerningly elated by it.
While listening you've come to realise the lead singer sounds oddly similar to John Dory, just with a higher pitch and none of that raspiness. Like, freakishly similar. It's had you thinking John Dory's calling for you when he's just sound asleep, and the fact you misheard Brozone's “baby” or “honey” as JD is frankly embarrassing.
You groan and slump against the couch, the pen tumbling out your hand and clattering onto the ground below. Okay, you had to admit, this was really difficult. You were suddenly gaining so much more respect for boy bands.
You'd wanted to use this ridiculous bet as an opportunity to show off, or…even bring you and JD closer together- you know how important music is to him, so getting to write him a love song under the guise of a bet? It's a perfect chance handed to you on a silver platter!
But you just can't seem to think of the words- it's already been a week and so far you've written, what? 4 verses? And they all sucked. You wanted it to mean something- you wanted it to sound poetic and elegant and meaningful all at once, unlike those silly songs on the radio, but it just wouldn't work out!
You muffle a frustrated shout into your hands, pulling them away from your face when you hear footsteps, looking up to see John Dory towering over you.
“You give up yet?” His smile is adorable infuriating to look at, so you cast your gaze aside, huffing and grabbing your pen off the floor.
“No, ‘course not.”
He hums, patient for you to admit defeat, trying to take a peek at your notebook from up above, though you're not too worried since he can't read upside down [or at all, you've come to suspect].
“Okay, fine, I give up. You win.”
John Dory lets out a ‘whoop!’ and throws a fist upwards in celebration, smile so wide you're afraid he'll split his face apart.
You sigh, “Okay, hit me with it, I'm doing the dishes for a full week? Scrubbing Rhonda's windows?”
“Sing a duet with me.”
“This is so unfair, you know I hate doing the dishes- wait- huh?”
John Dory looks at you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes, holding his palm out for you to take, “Sing a duet with me. C'mon, don't think I haven't seen you swaying to my- uh, ahem, Brozone's music the past few days.”
He recovers quickly from his slip-up, tugging you upwards once you take his hand. He carefully starts up his record player, and you're surprised to find you recognise the song immediately, since it'd become a favourite of yours this past week.
“You know this one?” JD grins in your direction, one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder, his touch gentle yet firm, “think I've heard you hum it a few too many times during breakfast.”
The song starts off slow, as does your dancing, the both of you simply swaying together- you don't exactly…dance often, so your movements are clumsy while his are self-assured.
The lyrics are cheesy, all about young teenage love, but…they make you feel giddy, your steps becoming lighter, your heart fluttering about. And, well, the song may not have deep mind-blowing lyrics, but you think that's the point of it. It's just meant to be fun, have your blood pumping and your heart soaring.
“We're grown adults, this song is for highschoolers.” You say, though your smile is fonder this time. John Dory chuckles and spins you around in his arms, making your head spin in more ways than one, your feet tripping up over his, “C’mon, live a little! Who says we can't be young and free in our mid-thirties?”
You stumble in place, trying to blink the dizziness out your eyes.
“JD, I'm gonna knock you out.” You try your best to grumble, but it only comes out flustered with how hot your cheeks are.
He smirks, twirling you around, “You've already knocked me-” his foot slides under yours, and you fall down into his arms with a yelp as he catches you in a perfect dip- “off my feet.”
Just before you can spew another insult at him for catching you off-gaurd like this, he leans in to kiss you, lips melding against yours sweetly. You melt into it, his arms secured around you so you don't fall, the music fading into background noise in your mind. You know your voice will be hoarse from singing and your muscles sore from dancing by the end of the night, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑
Would be superr cool if you left feedback if you enjoyed it's super helpful and much appreciated ! this guy is so cringefail I NEED HIM. -silver
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birdperselias · 6 months
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LAST DAY OF MIAMI RICK WEEK!!!
thanks so much for all the kind words!!!!! jumping up and down in excitement to it all !!! :)
im gonna take a small break tomorrow then get onto the wonderful requests ppl sent but i absolutely loved drawing this silly guy for a week so ty again!!!
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jacobglaser · 11 months
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You're slowing down, old man.
OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH 2X04
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pia55tri · 28 days
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Carcar prompt!!
Carlos follows Oscar back on Insta randomly and Oscar is very ??? about it hehe
thank you for sending in a prompt 🫶
Oscar gets so many notifications on his public socials that he’s muted them all. That isn’t to say that he isn’t immediately informed when anything happens, because he is.
This time, it’s a message from his social media manager, who doesn’t really manage his posts, but does keep an eye out on them for the team. It goes, Just a few comments from some drivers on your latest post. And Carlos followed you back.
And Oscar’s immediate instinct is to ask, Carlos who?
Is it Carlos Alcaraz? That would be cool, but unlikely.
Even just as unlikely is Carlos Sainz Jr. following him back. But that’s just what happens.
Oscar stares at his followers list for a long moment. He isn’t on bad terms with Carlos, per se. But they’re not on — on great terms either. They just.
They talk. A lot. Carlos talks a lot, in general, and Oscar is exactly the type to goad him, so when they end up in the same vicinity — which is often, nowadays, given that they’re both living in Monaco and bumping into each other at the gym, or the padel court, or even Lando’s favourite haunts around the city — they end up talking for longer than Oscar anticipates.
And they take the same private jets. Same planes, if they’re flying commercial. They have the same friends on the grid. They go to the same gym.
It just happens. Oscar never expected it to, but it does. And somehow all those coincidences and those conversations snowball into texting on the regular and sending each other ridiculous posts from the internet and sports news clips and short messages about their very separate days. And.
Anyway. Throughout it all, Carlos never followed Oscar back on instagram. It was funny, at first (and still is, really), because Carlos would leave comments on his posts like a terrible stalker. For the first few weeks of their sort-of-friendship, Oscar doesn’t think that Carlos even knew he hadn’t been following Oscar back. But it’s since been a little joke between them.
(And imagine that, an inside joke between Oscar and Carlos Sainz Jr. Oscar was a child and spectator at one of Carlos’s rookie races. Little Oscar would have laughed in disbelief. Rookie Oscar would have also laughed in disbelief, in, albeit, a mildly different manner.)
So, now. Oscar is up at an unreasonable time, lounging in his underwear, in the middle of his messy room, and staring at the carlossainz55 in his followers list.
What the fuck.
He needs a sympathetic ear.
🏎🏎
“Okay?” Logan is not at all sympathetic. “And, uh, how does that make you feel?”
“I’m. Normal about it.”
“If you were normal about it, you wouldn’t have called me about it at,” a rustle and a sigh, “three in the morning about it. Mate, I have a meeting in, like, four hours.”
“Logan, please.”
“Call Fred or something.”
“No!” Oscar immediately protests. “And no calling Lando either. They’ll just tell me to— to smooch him or something.”
Another pause. “Well, mate, I don’t know what to tell you, but I personally think that if you’re thinking about ‘smooching’ someone at three in the morning, then you should probably do that.”
Oscar groans. “Fuck you, too.”
“Cheers,” Logan says brightly, then hangs up on him.
Oscar groans again.
🏎🏎
He finally gives in to his little lizard hindbrain and pulls up his messages with Carlos.
So you’re finally signing up to seeing me on your timeline regularly?
He stares at his screen with some shock at his own audacity. What is he—
A buzz. And a reply from Carlos.
Much easier than me going to look for your account every time I want to see you, yes?
Oscar stares some more.
Carefully, he places his phone screen-down on his bed. Looks up at the ceiling.
He can feel his heart in his throat.
Well.
Well.
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therookiecentral · 2 years
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requested by anonymous
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chenfordsource · 4 months
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requested by anonymous
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barchiesource · 1 year
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BETTY & ARCHIE 7x19: The Golden Age of Television requested by anonymous
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b4ts1e · 9 months
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▀▄▀▄▀▄The Weight of Stones▄▀▄▀▄▀ (𝚐𝚗!𝙼𝙲)
𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍: 𝚀𝚒𝚞/𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚗 𝙻𝚒𝚗 𝚃𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙱𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚗 𝙾𝚙𝚊𝚕 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 (𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍) 𝙼𝙲 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 (𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙾𝙻:𝙽&𝙵)
𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝:
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I am so sorry this was requested back in October and I'm just now uploading it- but please enjoy! Just a heads up- as I'm invisioning this, they are closer to step 3 then the step 2 prolouge, so this kinda like an inbetween chapter I guess.
(Heads up- as I'm writing this, I've noticed that this is gonna hit really close to home for some since it gets pretty heavy into the angst part of hurt-comfort. Please be careful while reading.)
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(𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗)
It was painfully obvious for those who paid attention, and even for those who barely kept tabs on it- Qiu Lin and Tamarack Baumann...they don't get along. Everyone in the small town of Golden Grove knew it, including the one who stood between the two- MC Second. Those closest to MC, mainly their mother, could see the way they constantly tried to hold the cul-de-sac trio together, grasping at straws to keep what little of their childhood friendship remained.
However- their effort has been proven futile time and time again. And we all know the saying: 'the straw that breaks the camel's back'. Eventually, they to would break down- no matter how strong or tight they held onto their apathetic mask.
(𝙼𝙲'𝚜 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎)
It felt like I was drowning, no longer in control of my own body as I was forced to watch my two friends stare daggers at each other. The world around me was muffled, they were saying things at each other and yet I couldn't understand the words they were saying- I only knew that it wasn't good, they were fighting. Over what? I hadn't the slightest clue, it's just been this way- for awhile now.
I'm so tired.
My body was strained, being pulled towards two opposing sides- yet wanting nothing but the past laughter and fun we had as children. Exhaustion swallows me whole as I slowly, quietly, and completely unnoticed as I walk away from the two. I just wanted to go home at this point- and yet? The house that was once filled with joy and laughter, echoing down the hall as we told each other stories and kept each other up way past our bedtimes, no longer felt the same. It was cold, quiet, and yet somehow welcoming- the silence was always better than the muffled screaming of others.
This was the first time they'd let themselves genuinely argue in front of me, normally they kept their time with me as a neutral space- a cease from the firing of guns. Sure their slight jabs at each other never faded, but even so- that could be considered playful banter. Or at least that's what my mind told itself- what I told myself, just so I could attempt to rest easy at night.
Maybe this was my fault, they only started fighting because I kept pushing them to be around each other. Had I just...let them drift apart this wouldn't have happened, they would've lived on without needing to communicate with each other- but no. I had to be selfish. I just had to make things worse didn't I?
I entered my house, removing any extra layers I had put on today- carelessly putting them on the couch and floors along with my bag before heading upstairs. The weight of anything unessential felt burdensome, I didn't even lock the front door behind me- I couldn't find the motivation too. Once in my room I threw my shoes into a corner, flopping face first into my bed- grasping a pillow close to my chest as it became hard to breath.
I wanted to scream, but I once again- couldn't find the motivation, as tears streamed down my face.
(𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗)
Shortly after MC had walked away, Tamarack and Qiu realized the absence of their mutual friend. Worry struck them both, despite Qiu not outwardly showing it like Tamarack so willingly did. "Where did MC go?" she asked- mainly to herself as she looked around, hoping to spot the bridge that kept the trio together. Autumn shrugged, looking around lazily- they didn't show it willingly but worry was burried deep in their heart. "Maybe they finally got sick of you, I dunno know." they proded, almost eliciting a snap response from Tamarack.
She may not be willing to stand up for herself normally, but she definetely wouldn't let Qiu- of all people, make her doubt the closeness between her and MC. After all- they were bestfriends, right? Since the second day they've known each other and they both confirmed it. That hadn't changed...right? She shook her head quickly, glaring at the taller of the two. "Or they got sick of you finally. I can't understand how they stick around you after all this time!" she responds before pinching the bridge of her nose with a groan.
"Y'know what? I'm going to find MC and apologize for letting your stupid remarks get to me in front of them, if you're tagging along then I highly suggest keeping up." she says before walking away, towards MC's house- hoping that'd be where she'd find her friend. Autumn rolled their eyes and followed after her, not caring all too much about apologizing but worried for their friend- one of the few people who they kept around in this difficult time for themself.
By the time the duo had gotten to MC's house, the sun had set- the sky being dark and the threat of rain became extremely apparent as heavy storm clouds rolled in over the town. The feeling of electricity in the air mixed with their worry made them both far more anxious to know if MC really was within the walls before them. Tamarack knocked, receiving no answer and only boosting Qiu's nerves. Neither of them liked how it felt detrimental to get into the building quickly, almost like a rush of adrenaline shooting through them both simultaneously. Autumn nudged past Tamarack, their expression shifting from their relaxed front to anxiety in an instant- they reached for the handle and tried to open it.
Seeing the door creak open, revealing a dark and quiet house was terrifying. Leaving too much room for their imaginations to wander, especially with the door unlocked- had something happened? Tamarack flicked on the light, quickly spotting the mess of clothes and a bag that remained untouched in the living room. A slight relief ran through her as she was now certain that her assumption of MC going home had been correct, but when the soft sound of dry sobbing came from upstairs the two made eye contact with one another. Worry etched across both of their faces, a mutual agreement to not jab at each other for the time being was made without words.
Slowly the two went up the stairs, locating the source of the crying. Hearing mumbles of things such as:
"It's my fault..."
"I'm so selfish..."
"I just wanted to be happy..."
The voice was hoarse and muffled by a pillow. Looking into the room, Qiu and Tamarack saw something that broke both of their hearts. MC was curled into a ball, laying on their side, clutching a pillow like a life line, shivering, and crying. Most beyond their small trio would've never seen something like this, they were always so optimistic about things and their mask was as hard as stone. Rarely had the cracks gotten bad enough for the mask to completely shatter and allowed them to break down like this, they were the strong one- no matter their muscle mass.
Hearing them degrading themself, blaming themself for the two not getting along- even going as far to see themself as selfish for wishing for the past... It triggered something in Autumn, the person they relied so heavily on day after day had been hurting and they too had been far too blind to see it- it made them feel incredibly guilty, they had been the selfish ones. Not MC. Tears pricked the corners of their eyes as they slowly entered the room as quietly as possible- yearning to comfort them as much as possible.
Tamarack's reaction had been similar- she didn't want to believe that she had been so neglectful of her best friend's needs, but the proof was right in front of her. It clicked in the back of both of their minds in an instant- they both had been bad friends. Without realizing it they turned their rivalry of sorts into a larger priority than their friendship with MC. Now knowing just how much they'd affected their friend's mental health, they wanted nothing but to take it all back.
Once she broke from her shock- Tamarack moved quickly, faster than she had intended, getting onto MC's bed and pulling them in her chest- holding them tightly as her own tears spilled from her eyes. Stunned, MC froze- looking to see Qiu approaching slowly and hearing the choked sobs coming from Tamarack. Once Autumn had finally gotten to the bed, they sat down on the edge and grabbed MC's hand gently- massaging their knuckles lightly, something MC had done for them in the past to calm their nerves.
It felt like an enternity went by at the trio cried together- one crying silently, the other with their voice already hoarse from previous events, and the other much more vocal about their sarrow. Once it had calmed down, tears now dry and everything was out- Qiu was the first to speak, voice soft and slightly shaking from all the emotions.
"MC...We are so...so sorry for ignoring your needs, we prioritized our stupid rivalry over our friendship with you- I see now that we have been really bad friends to you. You shouldn't have to chose between us. You aren't selfish for wanting things to be as they were before. I am so sorry for not seeing the warning signs that you needed help too..." they explained, clutching MC's hand tightly- their partially gloved hands cold and shaking slightly. The cold inside only amplified but the chill and rain from the out, making MC realize that they hadn't bothered to turn on the heater once they got home.
Tamarack slowly let them go, rubbing under her eyes with her sweater sleeve to try to clear the crust left behind by the tears that were shed. "I- I'm sorry too MC. We're supposed to be your best friends, and not even I noticed what you were going through. I thought...I dunno- I just." she took a moment to restabilize herself before she cried again. "I was a bad friend to you as well MC, and I am so sorry if we accidentally made you feel unimportant or selfish because of our stupid inability to get along. We care a lot for you, but I'm pretty sure we'd both understand if you need space from us both for awhile."
Her approach was professional, but her voice betrayed her harshly as she couldn't withhold the shakyness of it. A habit she had attempted to pick up from MC- using professionalism to hide true emotion in situations, though she was never very good at it. MC however- was somewhat of a master at it, having used it whenever Tamarack's brother had shown up to see her unannounced.
MC hesitated for a moment before pulling the two in for a hug, they had been shaking for a while- though it had calmed down, their nerves still felt a bit fried at the moment. They didn't say much when they spoke, Autumn's arms wrapped around their torso gently and Tamarack's wrapped loosely above their shoulders, but their voice was soft- a calm breeze despite the storm outside.
"Thank you...both of you." that was all they could say in the moment, keeping the two opposite personalities close as their exhaustion reached peak compacity. "We'll...we'll stay here until Ms. Second gets home, go ahead and rest. I promise we won't fight like that anymore." Qiu's voice was soft as Tamarack nodded in agreement, all three were tired now.
However- as the three slept, it marked a new chapter. Sure the two wouldn't always get along, but they swore never to allow themselves to fight like how they had been- especially if it risked their mutual friendships.
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𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1,963
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volturissideslut · 10 months
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lovesick remus next pls🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼
𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖚𝖘 𝕷𝖚𝖕𝖎𝖓
Lovesick Remus who always carries some snacks for you in his bad. You could be going to class or a fair, doesn't matter. He cared about you and wants to look after you - he's not gonna let you go hungry.
Lovesick Remus who helps you with your work. You don't even have to ask, he's already there pretending to read (he's actually just admiring you over the pages of his book) and waiting around to see of yiu have any questions. Poor Sirius and James can't get Remus to tell them the answers even if they get,but you just hand to furrow your brows in confusion then look to at him.
Lovesick Remus who loves showing off his knowledge, especially about astronomy. "Did you know that Remus is a moon in the main belt of asteroid 86 Sylvia?" He loves to cuddle up to you at night and tell you tall tales of the stars and constellations. So many of them have great tales assigned to them and he researched them all to be bedtime stories for you.
Lovesick Remus who uses his knowledge to his advantage. He knows a lot about flowers and their meanings from this one book he read, and so whenever he's out with the other Marauders he'll be on the look out. If he can find enough, he picks you bouquets of these wild flowers. If not, he'll take one or two and press it into a bookmark for you.
Lovesick Remus who actually genuinely trusts you and let's you in. He let's you see him, truly. You see the scars that litter his body and the scars that litter his mind. He isn't a big fan of physical touch unless it's people he trusts, but somehow it's never a good day if he hasn't hugged you at least twice. He'll dedicate himself to you, please look after him.
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reijndeers · 4 months
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young szczesny doodles because i can’t colour anything rn
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stedefxckingbonnet · 11 months
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part two of the one where reader kills for izzy?! idk im thinking something where the reader starts to get in their head about it since they did swear never to kill anyone and they start panicking after a while and Izzy’s there. i love ur writing ofmhfhf
Hi!! I'm really happy you suggested this—I hope that this second part is just as enjoyable as the first!! and, thank you so much for reading and loving my writing, anon! And, all of you! It really does mean the universe to me and makes my heart soar to bring you all joy! I can't thank you all enough for your everlasting kindnesses. Enjoy!! xx <3
Love,
Lavinia
P.S I hope to crank out at least 1-2 more requests this week before I go out of town and kind of offline for a few days!! Please by all means, keep the requests coming though! I am not overwhelmed and I do not feel obligated by any means—I love getting to write and receiving such wonderful ideas from you all.
Eternity (part 2) | Izzy Hands x Reader
Warnings: mentions of death (not of a major character or reader!), light angst, kissing, brief mentions of lack of eating due to anxiety, the briefest mention of nausea and nothing past that, the briefest mention of blood, some strong language
Word Count: 2084
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The salty sea air that you once adored, that you once could smell for hours and never get sick of, that you wished you could bottle and later open to submerge your senses in at any time entered your nostrils as it usually had and it was almost enough to make you nauseous. You ran off of the deck immediately, abruptly ending your conversation with Lucius, whom you heard tease you for suddenly having sea legs as you exited his sight.
You found yourself back in your quarters and you immediately slammed the door, making sure no one had any ideas of following you. All you wanted to do was hole yourself up in between those four walls and maybe never even show your face to anyone again. You barely left your room nowadays unless it was absolutely called for. Even the confections that Roach prepared just for you were never enough to get you to eat. He had noticed you avoiding the crew during meals more and more, and never finishing the food he prepared specially for you to consume at different times where you could enjoy your solace like you needed sometimes. He didn't even care that you were wasting supplies and rations—he just wanted you to get something on your stomach and to keep in good health. It brought him down that he wasn't able to help you, and soon after, even more of the crew's worry for you only grew, including the captains themselves.
But no one was more concerned than Izzy. Even if they tried to exhibit that they were, he would only throw furious remarks their way until they got it into their pea brains that no one could be as truly uneasy as him, not knowing if you were okay or not. As soon as he came out onto the deck, he noticed you flee, which only made his heart sink into the pit of his stomach even further. Without question, he followed behind you, but when you slammed the door shut, he figured he would give you just a few moments to cool off. He sighed as he leaned against your door, slowly sinking down to the ground to sit before he finally felt in his gut that it was a decent enough time to enter. It would never be a good time, not even an okay time. He had to settle for decent enough, and he was okay with that. He just wanted to make sure you would be alright—he needed to make sure of it. And if he could help in any way at all, he would do so without hesitation.
He could have sworn he heard a few sobs from the other end, and this is when he stood up and inhaled sharply before knocking gently on your door, executing a rhythm that allowed you to know that it was him on the other side. At first, he didn't hear a response, but he wasn't ready to give up just yet, so he rose his hand to knock again, but just as he was about to, you opened the door. His hand quickly shot back down to his side.
"Izzy," you breathed, gently grabbing his forearm and pulling him inside yourself. This time, you quietly shut the door behind you. You let go of your grip of him and immediately plopped onto your bed, face-first. A sigh escaped Izzy's lips as he sat beside you, tracing patterns into the small of your back and eventually beginning to lightly massage your shoulder. He remembered when you shared with him that all of your worries manifested themselves in your shoulders, further creating gordian knots that seemed impossible to undo. You allowed a few sighs of relief to be heard, filling the silence between you and Izzy. He was eternally grateful, for once in his life, for such a silence to be interrupted.
"Are you avoiding me?"
At this, you immediately shot up out of your position. You turned to face him. "What? No, no, Iz—I'm not avoiding you. I promise."
"It feels like it," he slightly turned away so as to conceal the dismay written all over his face. "I don't know what it is that I've done, but whatever it is, I...I'm sorry."
"Izzy," you exhaled, then taking your own turn to rub his back. "I promise you I'm not avoiding you."
"You've been...distant, almost," he pointed out, looking over his shoulder to see your face the best he could. He marveled at the sight of you—even when not fully facing you, even when your cheeks were tear-stained and your appearance more unkept than usual, you were absolutely enchanting. You were more beautiful than any of the wonders of the world that Izzy Hands had encountered, more bewitching than any of the treasures he had acquired and any of the artwork he had laid eyes upon, more enticing than any song he had ever heard. To Izzy, you practically were the definition of beautiful and anything else reminiscent of it.
You gently took hold of his chin and turned him to face you, and he ended up turning his body back around, but your fingers still rested upon his face.
"I'm not trying to be," you spoke sincerely, meeting his eyes. "I just...haven't been feeling very well as of late, I suppose."
"Are you ill?" he inquired, bringing his palm up to your forehead with his ungloved hand. "You feel fine to me...Say, is someone in the crew bothering you? I swear, I'll give them a piece of my mind—"
"Izzy!" you almost laughed. "No, no. Nothing of that sort."
"Then what is it?" he almost demanded. To anyone else, this would have appeared aggressive but you knew this was his way of care towards you shining through. His care for you was like a bright ray of sunshine that still shone through even the darkest of clouds.
"Just exhausted," you shrugged. "I'll be fine soon. Just need to rest more."
You both were no stranger to silence, who decided to visit in this moment. But when it came to you, Izzy didn't quite like the added company of silence, nor its existence between you two at all. Of course, he would be overjoyed to co-exist in one of your quarters whilst silence filled the space—at times like those, its presence was tranquil. But it was the furthest from emitting any feeling of peace right now. Izzy wanted to slash right through it and make sure it never came back.
"I'm not a fool, you know," Izzy spoke against said quiet, almost frowning. "I can tell when something is wrong, especially with you. You're avoiding everyone, including me. You haven't eaten in days, and don't try and deny it—Roach told me. Approached me himself."
You bit your lip until you drew a few droplets of blood, which cascaded down your chin. Izzy sighed, wiping the trail that had formed off of your face with his ungloved hand. Once you were clear of any redness that wasn't already natural and apparent on your face, his hand lingered upon it for a moment as he got lost in your eyes.
"You can tell me anything," he promised you as a soft smile overtook him. "I just want you to be okay. I want to help you, believe it or not."
At this, you couldn't hold any of it back anymore. Tears immediately flew out of your eyes and landed on yours and Izzy's clothes, sobs escaped your mouth—you could hardly stand to look at Izzy, and you could hardly even sit. Before you knew it, you collapsed into Izzy, your head on his lap and your legs dangling off your cot. "Every day I'm so fucking guilty, Izzy. I can't sleep because I just—I just see blood, everywhere. I feel that shop owner's final breath on my neck every time there's any sort of breeze, so, always. And because I'm not getting enough sleep, I'm fucking seeing things, like his ghost or something, and I just—I'm a murderer, Izzy. Oh my god—I'm a murderer, I'm absolutely horrible..."
As you panicked, Izzy held you close to him, softly stroking your hair and listening intently. He tried his best to soothe you, often repeating things such as "it's okay" while you continued to sob into his leathers.
"It's okay, love," he added onto the last one, which took him way too much courage to do than he would ever admit. You looked up at him with a hopeful gleam in your eye, and that's when it hit Izzy, that's when he realized exactly what you needed from him. He breathed in as much of the air as he could and released a good amount of it back into the atmosphere before he opened his mouth to speak. "I know that killing another person is so fucking haunting. My first kill honestly messed me up, and Blackbeard's messed him up even worse. But you aren't a murderer or a killer, my love. You're my savior, if anything. You saved my life. And it sucks that the only way to do that was by ending someone else's, I know, but that was the only way. Maybe there was, but there wasn't any time to think of that. You're a problem-solver, and you saved me. I know it feels like what you did was wrong, I know it can feel like that. But you are the furthest thing from a bad person. Look, I know I may not be the best with words. but I am telling the truth. And I don't resent you for having to do what you did, nor does the crew or your captains. It was a difficult fucking position to be put in, and one you shouldn't have even been in at all. And I'm so sorry that trying to do a good thing came with all of these awful, awful feelings. I would never have wanted you to save me that day if I knew you'd be feeling even half of this."
By the time Izzy was done speaking, he felt winded. He sort of laughed at how deep of a breath he had to take. He quickly looked over at you to see any sign that anything that he had just said helped you or reached you in any capacity. He quickly grew self conscious, wondering if he said anything remotely of help or if he just sounded like a complete dick. He opened his mouth to speak once again, in hopes that maybe he could correct all his supposed mistakes, but before a sound could escape him, you wrapped your arms around him, practically tackling him as you did so. Izzy let out a gasp, but he, as if it were almost instinct, held your arms with his hands. He melted into your embrace, and felt more content than he had ever felt. He would be okay with staying in this moment for all eternity, if he could.
"I love you, Israel."
The words left your lips before you could even realize that was what you were about to say, to express. Your breath hitched, and you almost couldn't meet eyes with Izzy anymore, but you couldn't help but glimpse over at him, desperate for his response, even if he couldn't return your sentiment just yet—or ever, really. You knew that what the two of you shared was special and beyond words and normalcy and maybe it even transcended the confines and limitations of life and love itself, but you understood if love was not in the picture for him at all. Maybe what the two of you shared wasn't that special or that transcendental. But before you knew it and before you could doubt yourself anymore, Izzy's lips were on yours. This was only the second time you had shared a kiss since you saved him and this time it was filled with even further intensity and warmth, and even almost this sort of hunger, this craving for you. You honestly didn't even need verbal confirmation from the man anymore—you knew your connection didn't need to be spelled out so directly, and perhaps what you felt for one another couldn't be reduced to love. But when the two of you pulled apart at the same time, foreheads still touching and lips still pressed closely upon one another, Izzy, with such earnest conviction, spoke the clearest he ever had.
"I love you, darling. For all of eternity, and whatever awaits us beyond it. I promise."
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i needdd fengqing fics that actually deal with their complex psychosexual issues about each other stemming from their own self-hatred and regret and fundamentally opposing perceptions of the world and not just petty toothless squabbles with no larger context. folks pls remember that fengqing are about seeing urself in the other yet being so exhaustingly different and bringing out the worst versions of each other yet also needing the other to define ur very being. cmon yall throw in some actual flavor to the supposedly spicy explosive tgcf ship here
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