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#g: slow burn
spuffyarchive · 2 months
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maybe i'm ready to love you by chasingfictions [NC-17]
“Buffy?” He almost never used to call her Buffy. Did he? Always Slayer, or pet, or love. Or like, he’d use her name, but it always sounded odd, in his mouth. All tender, touchy. Like, like he was making eye contact with her, just by saying it. "Spike." She wonders if it feels the same, for him. His name, her tongue. - (Or: Spike’s gone, and Buffy doesn’t care. No, really, she doesn’t. Cross her heart.)
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sp0o0kylights · 11 months
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Adopt a Jock Part Four  / Part Five P 1 YOU ARE HERE / Part Five P 2 
As always I own my soul to @chalkysgarbagefire and Hayley for helpin out with this one! 
The problem with D&D games was that the drama room was only available on specific days.
As in, the days Hellfire was scheduled as a club for, much to said club’s distress. 
This led directly into the second issue Hellfire faced--finding a place to host them all when they wanted to do something as a group outside of the main campaign they played. 
(At least anything D&D related, with all of the screaming, ranting, and frantic dice rolling that came with it.) 
Gareth knew Eddie had been lying through his teeth when he'd try to pitch Steve's house as a Hellfire hangout. Accepted that they’d never get to use all the sweet, sweet space Steve was known to have as much as he’d accepted Steve himself. 
It was a lot, after all. Particularly when Eddie’s one-shots were known to last a good chunk of the day. 
Once again, Steve had proved them all wrong. 
(“We can use my house.” were five words not a single person at the table had ever expected to hear out of Harrington’s mouth, and it showed in the shocked silence that followed when he actually spoke them. 
“What?” Steve asked, as six pairs of eyes stared at him. “Space is the problem right? So my house is the perfect solution.” 
“Are you sure dude?” Grant asked hesitantly. “You know this one-shot isn’t gonna be a like, two hour thing, right?” 
To their surprise Steve just gave him a flat, almost dead-eyed stare in return. “I’ve hosted the kids at my place before. Believe me, I am well aware.” 
“As long as you’re absolutely sure…” Jeff had added, and could only roll his eyes when he got a sassy response from Steve. 
Gareth of course, caught the way Steve kept seeking out Eddie’s eyes, as if hoping to make their oldest friend smile simply by offering up his house. 
He didn’t even need to look to know it was working.) 
It had taken some creative thinking (and a few wild excuses) to finangle things so that he could show up to Steve's literal castle of a home before anyone else without alerting Eddie but he'd managed it.
It was in fact, looking to be the highlight of Gareth's month. 
Possibly the year, if they managed to pull off the little plot he had cooked up. 
“I still don’t get how this is a prank.” Steve said, as Gareth prepped him before the others arrived.
"Trust me. If Eddie is anything, it's a jealous bitch." Gareth replied, seated on one of the countertops. "We dethrone him and he's gonna make an ass of himself for the next week. It'll be hilarious." 
"I fail to see how that's different than usual." Steve grumbled as he bustled about. 
Upon arrival Gareth had found him elbow deep into making cookies and what appeared to be  themed cocktails, among several other bowls full of snacks of all kinds. 
There was even little finger sandwiches, the kind that absolutely looked homemade, and Gareth would have teased him about that except he’d instantly stuffed two in his mouth.  
("I won't be able to host since I'm playing, so I just want everything done before anyone comes over." Was Steve's explanation, when Gareth did manage to get out a few teasing quips.  
With the proud lack of manners so many teenage boys possessed, Gareth talked right through his mouth of food. "God you’re a dork. How the hell did you get popular?"
"Shut up Emerson, you're wearing two jackets." Steve snipped in response, as if he didn’t look like the poster boy for Nordstrom.) 
"Don't bring logic into this." Gareth continued, as he tried to snag some cookie dough. 
 Steve smacked the back of his hand with a spoon. 
"Get a bowl and a spoon if you're going to eat the dough!" Steve grumbled at him, already bustling to get said bowl and spoon himself. “God you’re worse than Eddie. And the kids!” 
Gareth waited until Steve turned before he stuck his tongue out at him. "Whatever you say, mom." 
He got an over exaggerated eye roll in response. 
 "Anyway, the point is you're gonna witness something we'll get to tease Eddie about for years." Gareth said, as he watched Steve dole out some dough. 
"You get to watch the little hamster on the wheel that powers Eddie's brain lose its shit and cause him to do something really stupid.” He made grabby hands for the bowl and spoon, and tucking in delightfully the second Steve handed them over. 
Steve himself treated the entire exchange like he was feeding a particularly vicious and wild animal, making a show of yanking his hands back like Gareth might just go for his fingers. "I just don't understand why the thing you wanna fight about is cuddling."
"Bragging rights. The jokes we can make. The fact that your thighs look like they were made out of clouds, take your pick man.” Gareth counted off, in-between bites of dough. 
"Clouds?" Steve asked, tilting his head. 
“Big muscley clouds, Harrington. Also Grant’s here.” 
Steve blinked. “How do you-” He asked, right before the sound of a car with an engine far too loud pulled into his driveway. 
“He drives an absolute piece of crap. You ride in that thing one time and you’ll be able to hear it coming for the rest of your life.” Gareth explained, as Steve peered out the kitchen and down to his front doors. 
(Plural, because he had two.
Gareth had never felt more judged by slabs of wood in his life than he had when he’d walked through them.) 
"Last chance to bail, Stevie.” Gareth teased. “I won't hold it against you if you call it off mid-show though." 
Steve didn’t answer for a moment, too busy disrobing from his baking apron—a bright yellow and red garment that practically swallowed him whole, complete with an embroidered ‘Claudia Henderson’ over the right breast. The embroidery gave rise to a few questions but Gareth decided to save them for later. 
"No, something this fucking weird has to have a story behind it and I want to witness the fallout.” Steve finally replied, before rushing out of the kitchen. 
He ripped open his front door, right after a knock echoed loudly throughout the house. 
“Shit! What the hell man, were you just waiting to do that!?” Stewart yelped, prompting Gareth to snicker quietly and Steve to apologize. 
Like the wealthy housewife he’d been no doubt raised by, Steve went through a whole spiel as he ushered Stewart and Grant in, pointing out bathrooms, letting them know where the game was going to take place (the giant fuck off table that looked like it should be hosting some kind of high-stakes negotiation instead of a bunch of nerds) and where they could put their things (into a closet dedicated to just guests.) 
The trio of Eddie, Tiffany and Jeff arrived next, the latter two having been roped into helping Eddie haul his “D&D To Go” bags around. 
Steve started his little host speech over, much to Gareth’s amusement, fluttering about and entirely forgetting about his cookies until the oven dinged, causing him to swear and rush back into the kitchen. 
“Dude, breathe.” Gareth told him, almost done with his bowl. “It’s a D&D game, you don’t gotta go full out for us.” 
“I just want to make sure everyone has a good time.“ Steve said with a shrug. Like none of the effort he’d gone to, was a big deal. 
“Careful Harrington, say stuff like that again and we’re going to start thinking you enjoy hosting us.” 
“Shut up Gary.” Steve said, setting his cookies on a cooling rack. “And put that bowl in the sink!” 
Gareth jumped off the counter, trying his best to remove the shit eating from his face.
He failed entirely. 
xXx 
As far as pranks went, this one required quite the set up. 
They couldn’t do it in the beginning of the D&D game--too obvious, and too easy for Eddie to call bullshit. 
Doing it at the end wouldn’t work either. Eddie would know they were trying to rile him up and would no doubt find a way to ruin it. 
Years of being Munson’s best friend had afforded Gareth the knowledge that this was going to have to be split in two parts, and the first part, the setup, started now. 
Slowly. Methodically. 
In a way that wouldn't spook Steve, or trigger Eddie's sense for trouble. 
Gareth began by selecting a seat as far away from Eddie as possible, knowing his lovestruck idiot friend would be pulling out all the stops tonight in order to impress Steve (and get him to keep playing, of course.) 
Sure enough, as soon as Eddie was done setting up he crooked a finger in Steve's direction.
“Harrington you’re here, next to me.” Eddie flashed him his most award winning grin, the one that said he was up to trouble in that charming, ‘aren’t I just a charming ol’ rogue?” sort of way. 
“I made you a human fighter, just to start you off." He continued, as Steve took the seat next to him. "You can always make your own character later if you don't like playing this class, but I made this set up as straightforward as possible.” 
“Human fighter huh?” Steve said, glancing down the sheet. “Okay.” 
“You have any questions, you just ask. I promise I won’t bite. Not for your first time anyway.” Eddie winked, dipping in and out of Steve's space as he did so. 
“Dude, I am begging you to please stop saying shit like that.” Jeff said with a long suffering sigh. 
“No.” Eddie replied promptly, sticking his tongue out. 
Steve just ducked his head to hide his smile. 
A harsh clap halted any further response, as Eddie settled back into his seat and dipped into his DM narrator voice. 
"Alright my little adventurers! Are we ready to begin?"  He looked around as everyone looked towards him, the energy shifting instantly in the room. 
Eddie grinned gleefully. "Perfect. You all wake up at an Inn, with no memory of how you got there…" 
A story was quickly spun, one of mysterious memory loss and a sense that the group needed to stay together. Introductions were given once everyone came into the tavern of the inn, cut short when they were interrupted by a lone barkeep.
“Is the barkeep a human?” Steve cut in. 
Eddie paused, temporarily thrown, but nodded encouragingly. “Yes, he is actually!” 
Grant and Jeff both went to open their mouths, no doubt to tease, but Harrington beat them to it. 
“Okay, I roll to fight him, or whatever.” Steve said.
“I--what?” Eddie asked. 
“I roll to fight him.” Steve repeated. “Oh and my character screams “Death to humans!” before he attacks.” 
He sat back with a smug little grin, and watched as Eddie froze in surprise, while Grant and Stewart's jaws promptly hit the floor. 
“Harrington, you menace.” Tiff cackled, delighted. 
Eddie just threw his head back and laughed. 
It set the tone quite nicely for the rest of the one-shot. 
xXx 
“Grant, why are you looking at me through a fork?” Steve asked, about thirty minutes into the game. 
“I’m pretending you’re in jail.” 
Steve raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Grant, whose character had to physically carry Steve's fighter out of two altercations he started,  just gave him a flat look.  “It’s spiritually healing.”
"Hey Jeff." Gareth asked quietly, as banter was traded. "I'm catching a hell of a draft over here." 
Jeff raised an eyebrow at him. "And what do you want me to do about it?" 
"Switch me seats?" 
Jeff rolled his eyes, but gave in easily enough. 
"Fine."  He said. 
Gareth did his best to keep his grin off his face. 
Step one, complete! 
xxx
"You come upon a door." Eddie said, sitting deep in his seat while steepling his fingers. "It's a normal door, unremarkable in every way except for two things." 
Groans filled the room, startling Steve. 
"Oh god, not again." Stewart moaned, raking his hands through his hair. "I can't do this again!" 
Eddie's grin merely grew. "The first odd thing you notice is that the door has been put into the wall at a tilt." 
"I'm gonna kill him." Tiff snarled, writing something frantically in her notes. "Munson is a dead man walking." 
"What is happening?" Steve asked, glancing around. 
"The second thing is that you recognize this door." Eddie's grin was Cheshire cat-esque, smug in the chaos he was causing among his friends. "It's the same door you saw at the beginning of this adventure, leading into the room the Innkeeper asked you to stay away from." 
"We're boned." Grant announced, throwing himself dramatically back against his chair. 
Gareth made his own dramatic, frustrated noise, banging his fist on the table. 
The full glass of soda next to him wobbled dangerously. 
With a cough, he made another loud "ugh!"  smacking his fist down a second time, closer to the glass. 
As intended, it spilled all over Tiffany. 
"Dude!" She exclaimed, shoving her chair backwards and jumping up. 
"Oh shit Tiff, I'm so sorry!" Gareth gasped. 
It was hard to keep a straight (albeit very sorry, least Tiffany hit him with her papers) face, but he managed. 
Barely. 
"You got my shirt wet you dick!"
"Here, switch it with this."  Gareth stood, unwrapping the red and black checkered sweater from his waist. He offered it up with an apologetic face as Tiff snatched it out of his hands with a glare. 
"I'll switch you seats too!" He called as she stormed off towards the bathroom. 
Jeff and Grant both stared at him with raised eyebrows as Gareth quickly shuffled his and Tiff's stuff around, taking her now sticky chair. 
"Maybe we should take a break?" He suggested, trying to act embarrassed when he was anything but. "This whole area needs to be wiped down."
"Five minutes." Eddie conceded. "I wanted one of Stevie's delicious cookies anyway." He stood, putting his arms up in a lazy stretch. 
Steve stood with him, leaning over to examine the mess Gareth had made. “We can wipe this down but this wood’s kinda funny, it’s gonna be wet for a bit no matter how much we dry it.” 
“Well shit.” Gareth said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about the table man.” 
Steve waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, the kids spill on it constantly. You are probably going to need a different chair though unless you’re fine with your ass getting wet.” 
“Do you have another chair somewhere, Stevie?” Eddie asked, making a show of looking around. “Cause I’m not seeing one. Not that I care if Gary-Berry sits on the floor.” 
Steve had several extra chairs in fact, but he and Gareth had hidden them all away before anyone else had arrived. 
“I used to, but Mike broke two.” Steve said, and Gareth found himself insanely impressed by the improv on display. 
He hadn’t thought Harrington had that level of acting in him. 
“If you’re okay with sharing though, the chair’s are big enough that we can kinda squish together.” Steve continued, completely ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes about bugged out of his head. 
“Only if you’re sure, man. I don’t want to be more of a bother.” Gareth put on his saddest, ‘I dun fucked up’ face, and shuffled his feet a little, just for dramatic effect. 
This was the performance of a lifetime and Gareth wanted his Grammy after it, because he and Steve had planned the entire thing right down to the shared chair bit. 
“You’re not, Dustin does this constantly.” Steve replied easily. 
“Or we could just put down a towel.” Jeff said, with a look on his face that said he thought everyone in the room was a fucking idiot. 
Gareth could’ve strangled him. 
“That’s probably a smarter idea.” Steve agreed, like the traitor he was. “I dunno if that’s gonna work for your papers and shit though, so you can just hedge into my space.” 
Which wasn’t what Gareth wanted, but he had to give Steve props for the quick thinking. 
At least it was just a minor setback. 
“I’ll get a towel.” Jeff continued, and at least they all got to witness the look that graced Eddie’s face upon realizing that Jeff of all people, knew where Steve kept his towels. 
xXx
"What the hell else can we do to try and open the door!?" Jeff snarled a while later, slamming his pencil down. 
They'd tried multiple different approaches and so far nothing had worked to set off whatever trap Eddie had set up. Something that made their DM absolutely delighted, while frustrating everyone else. 
"I still don't get why we can't just try to turn the knob." Steve complained, staring in confusion at the absolute riot Eddie's "completely normal" door had caused among the rest of his party. 
"Do not touch that door Harrington!" Grant bellowed, pointing at him. 
Steve raised his hands in the air placatingly. "Easy, easy, I was just making a suggestion." 
Gareth, wedged as close into Steve's space as he could get, tapped his fingers on the table twice. It was the little code he’d come up with to alert Steve that he was about to do something to piss off Eddie related to the prank (mostly, so Steve had a heads up Gareth was about to touch him, not that Gareth had spun it that way when he’d explained it) before patting Steve’s shoulder, hooking his elbow on it and leaning over. “Not gonna lie man, it’s not a bad idea. We’ve tried right about everything else.” 
He could feel Eddie's eyes burning a hole in his skull from here and he delighted in it. 
“Do not encourage him.” Grant said through gritted teeth. 
Gareth leaned his face on the arm perched on Harrington, his hair tickling Steve’s cheek as he tried to look as angelic as possible. “I couldn’t possibly know what you mean, Grantman.” 
He was flipped off in response. 
xXx
“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Stewart howled, and even Gareth’s jaw dropped when Steve finally gave in and tried to turn the knob--only to succeed and swing the door open. 
“Well Munson? What happens to him?” Tiff said, having refused to call Eddie anything but his last name since the door had first appeared. 
“Nothing.” Eddie practically purred. “I told you, it’s a totally normal door, and the only weird thing about it was that you recognized it and that it was put into the wall a little tilted.” 
“Fuck you dude.” Stewart practically growled, balling up the piece of paper he’d been doodling on and flinging it towards their DM. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck. You!” 
“No thank you.” Eddie replied cheekily, twirling a finger in his hair. 
“We spent almost an hour trying to figure out how to open a regular door.” Jeff said, clearly processing. “An hour.” 
Eddie just shrugged, shit eating grin plastered across his face. 
Gareth once again tapped his fingers twice against the table, waited a moment, before banging his head gently against Steve’s shoulder. “I hate him.” He groaned. 
After a long moment, Steve gently, if not a little awkwardly, patted him on the head. 
“There, there, Gary. We defeated the door in the end.” He said calmly. 
Gareth laughed, absolutely delighted. His head jerked up and a grin crossed his face as he immediately looked to see what Eddie made of that. 
Pure murder, going by the face Eddie poorly tried to cover. 
Perfect. 
xXx 
“With his last few moves, Sir Carrington-” 
"I refuse to let that be my character's name.” Steve interjected, as he had every time Eddie brought up the name they’d apparently argued over. “If I have to figure out how to change it legally in your dumb game I fucking will."  
Eddie didn’t even look in his direction. 
“--Sir Carrington leaps into the air, swinging the sword of truth. It cleaves right through the Innkeeper, revealing him to be the dastardly villain you’ve heard so much about, Tareth the Trait. He’s gained an unusual amount of power after stealing the Inn from the former Innkeeper--” 
“Really bro?” Gareth said, sending Eddie a flat look. “Tareth the Trait?” 
“--With this final blow, Tareth collapses to the ground, dead. The Inn returns to its prior form, a safe haven for adventurers, instead of a trap.” 
“Shut up guys, we did it!” Stewart said, throwing his hands up in a victory pose. 
“Not gonna Eddie, I liked the twist.” Tiff complimented, a rare thing from her. 
“Thank you, thank you.” Eddie stood up, sweeping an arm across his chest as he bowed. “Give yourselves a round of applause as well, especially for our dear Steven, who just completed his first D&D game!”
A cheer went up, causing Steve to flush red. 
Gareth pretending to drum, knocking his shoulder into Steve’s much the way he had seen Eddie do as Steve sent an embarrassed smile around the room. 
“We should celebrate.” Jeff said, as the chaos finally died down. 
“I conquer, Jeff the Chef!” Eddie hollered, putting his foot on Steve’s chair. “Stevie-boy, you gotta have some good stuff around here for those big basketball wins!” 
“Get your foot off the chair, Eds.” Steve groaned, but stood up (forcing Gareth to get up as well considering how far he’d been leaning into Steve’s space.) “And yeah we can order like pizza.” 
“Pizza and beer?” Grant suggested.
“Oh my friend. I can do better than that.” Steve replied, a flash of his old, charming self coming through. “Allow me to raid my father’s liquor cabinet.” 
“Hell yes!” Grant yelled, pumping his fist. 
Tiffany rolled her eyes but didn’t protest, and neither Gareth noted, did anyone else. 
Which was exactly what he wanted, because he hadn’t managed to land the perfect ending he and Harrington had planned. 
Gareth would make it into Steve’s lap tonight, even if it killed him.  
(Or worse, even if Eddie got there first, a thing that may very well happen considering Eddie was clearly annoyed with how Gareth had been hogging Steve. 
Just as intended.) 
SOME NOTES: I don't play d&d so writing it always requires a lot of research. Several pieces here (like the human fighter bit) are based off of/stolen from memes, videos or stories I read. If I fucked it up thaaaan idk squint and pretend its right LOL. 
This one doesn’t have a bonus because I had to split Chapter Five into two parts. This is Part One, it’ll be one chapter on A03.  It just kept going.
Also Adopt a Jock is officially going up ON A03 so I will no longer be accepting tags ( Ch. One is already uploaded I’m just struggling with the summary lol. I will make a post and link it to my pinned post when it’s up.) I will still be updating here since I am only updating chapters on A03 as fast as I can edit them, which is not fast at all, so I imagine the next few chaps will be here before there but eventually shits gonna even out, so those who did not get onto the tag list can subscribe to the A03!  
Finally, Sorry this took so long, I have a prior ongoing medical issue and getting laid off fucked up my insurance. Had to cram in some procedures before it ran out. Long story short all I've done is sleep, go to a doctor or rant about one of the two lmao. Legit slept 18 hours yesterday ahaha k i l l m e 
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ahsung · 8 months
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Sunbaenim. Thank you. We still have lots to do. And... don't thank me. I didn't do it for you. I'm just saying.
NOT OTHERS (2023) dir. Lee Min Woo
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starcut-sand · 7 days
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Margo is very good at detaching herself from things--places and people and et cetera.
It's probably something to do with her parents, or maybe the way her dimension is--this second one starts to be a consideration for her after she sees enough other dimensions to have something to compare it to. The point is, things change at the drop of a hat, and you lose things. On the internet, "everything is forever," but at the same time nothing is permanent. Nothing is tangible. You can't hold it in your hand or pack it away or hide it somewhere for safekeeping. Even for all of Margo's genius, she can't stop that--the digital world is always changing, always evolving, shifting like water.
And she wouldn't want to change it, exactly. She takes pride in being able to shift with it, to use it to amplify her own force, her own impact on the world. She's Spider-byte--the internet is her home, maybe even more so than her parents' apartment.
She doesn't really keep too much tangible stuff in her parents' apartment, even though it's her home. Of course she has her room and her posters and her precious technology, but she doesn't try to branch out with what she has or how she acts, and she doesn't try to spread her presence into other rooms too much. When her parents are fighting, other things can be collateral damage--not physically, really, but their arguments can make them angry at anything that catches their attention. At least that's what it feels like to her. So she doesn't--catch their attention, that is.
She's very detached. Very removed. Stability and security are blurry concepts, but she has other things--beautiful secrets that only she knows. Spider-byte, coding, other dimensions--she keeps it all close to her chest.
Earth-42 is different, though.
Well, not the dimension itself. Stable isn't really the word to describe Earth-42. But Miles G and Uncle Aaron's apartment is different.
She originally goes over a bit after BTSV (when the Spider-Band is becoming more of a friend group and less of a... ragtag rebel force), mostly because... well, he invited her. She doesn't hang out with other people much, but Miles G is a vigilante and he's pretty techy, so they've already got that in common, so it can't go terribly, right? Besides, he's funny sometimes. (and also she thinks he's cute. omg who said that not her) She can probably impress him with some hard light tech from 2099, which she knows doesn't exist in his dimension yet, and at the very least she'll be talking about something she knows.
And that does happen, but it's better than that.
Miles G shows her his projects, and she shows him the hard light stuff she's brought, and they end up on the floor, scattering the stuff around them while they work on each others' stuff. Miles G picks up on hard light fast fast, so she's not babying him or anything when they're bouncing ideas off of each other, coming up with weird creative systems and workarounds and etc etc etc.
And they talk about other things too. Mutual friends and everything that happened with Spot and Miguel. The concept of Spider-Man, what it's like to be a teen superhero, always up to your neck in something bigger than yourself. Not fitting in with classmates. Their respective dimensions--what they like about them, what they don't like, what's the hardest. Music tastes. Miles G gets up at this point and puts on the record player. A few hours in they stop to raid his uncle's fridge for snacks. He says his uncle won't mind, when she asks.
When his uncle does come home, he doesn't seem to care that they took his food or that they took over the middle of his floor or that they're playing music loud. Nothing seems to really phase him. He has to ask her for her name again, but he's friendly to her, overall, and when Miles G starts explaining the projects they've been working on he gets roped in and invested and he compliments her work. Overall she feels awkward for like five minutes before she gets pulled into the easygoing dynamic between the two of them, and then they're going going going like they had been before.
It's... nice. It's comfortable.
It doesn't take long for her to feel comfortable just dropping in on them whenever. Her parents notice that she's going out more often and she tells them that maybe she just made friends. They tell her she seems different lately, and she tells them that she doesn't know what to tell them about it. Sometimes people change.
Miles G saves up and buys the vinyl version of an album she likes, so they can listen to it in good quality at his uncle's, and not just from her phone. She holds the sleeve in her hands and everything, admiring the glossy print.
So yeah, Earth-42 is different.
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duramater97 · 2 years
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Aches and Adoration // Part 3
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Summary: It’s been a few years since you became a member of Dauntless and you want to brush up on your fighting skills. Getting Eric to help you was probably not your best idea.
Warnings: Explicit language, violence and injury, fem!reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Taglist: @ask-the-inserts @not-the-teen-witch @danthegirl99
The layout of the leader’s room matched you own but the space itself was larger despite Eric’s minimalistic style. You compared the kitchen to your own, where yours was littered with appliances, cookbooks and ingredients the only things you could see in Eric’s were a coffee machine and a small, heaped fruit bowl. You let your eyes flit across the living room to his bookshelves, overflowing with an unexpected variety of texts. You didn’t have him down as a voracious reader but he had proven you wrong before. While you had been studying his space he had collapsed onto the couch with a grunt, the motion clearly upsetting his sore ribs.
“Ice?” You questioned, tilting your head towards the kitchen. He gave an almost imperceptible nod and you stepped lightly towards his freezer, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his private space. You rifled around in the draws and grabbed a bag of ice and a towel from the side before returning to the couch. Intending to just hand the ice to Eric you were shocked into silence when he began to lift the hem of his vest, drawing your attention to his red-raw knuckles. You sucked in a breath at the sight of his fluttering abs as he struggled to breathe through the pain across his ribs. Gently lowering the cool ice-filled towel to the developing bruise you tried to keep your gaze steadily on the arm of the couch, hoping that you could fight down the blush rising to your cheeks. Maybe you should have grabbed some ice for yourself, because you felt as though you were on fire and you weren’t even directly touching Eric’s skin.
“You’re a terrible teacher, you know that?” You whispered as you lowered yourself to crouch by his side.
“How so?” He grunted through clenched teeth and you couldn’t tell if his injury or the cold bothered him more.
“Aren’t you supposed to set a good example? He totally tapped out and you ignored it.” You ventured a glance up at his face and noted the confused quirk of his lips.
“You didn’t get that luxury from him.” Eric mumbled, and you realised then that his attack on Thelonious had been entirely for your benefit. Revenge on your behalf.  
“Oh,” you shyly returned your attention to his ribs, “thank you, Eric.”
A muffled “didn’t do it for you” was all you got in response and it caused your lips to pull up in a knowing smile at the blatant lie.
You removed the bag of ice and brazenly ran your hand over the purpling skin, checking for any further wounds, your thumb caressed the ridges of muscle and pale flesh and your brows pinched in concern. Eric sucked in a harsh breath above you and you withdrew your hand so swiftly you almost hit yourself in the chest.
“Sorry.” You muttered sheepishly. “Give me your hands?” Eric stared down at you, sat delicately on your knees next to his stretched out legs, and pulled a face of disgust. You rolled your eyes, fully aware that he was embarrassed by your touch. “They’re all cracked and covered in blood Eric, c’mon, please?”
His hands landed gracelessly on his knees and you lifted his large palm softly into your own so that you could wipe at the scrapes with the dampened towel. You noticed him fisting his neglected hand into the fabric of his cargos and pretended to ignore the almost imperceptible shake of the hand you were currently working on. Was Eric nervous? No, he was clearly just trying to hide his pain, you reasoned, wiping his knuckles even more gently and moving up to sit beside him on the couch. Your knee lightly bumped into his muscled thigh and you shifted to put some distance between you since he didn’t seem to be enjoying the contact of your hands on his and you didn’t want to test his patience.
You had almost finished cleaning both hands of blood when you felt his thigh press back against your knee, filling the space, protesting the distance you had created. It was surprisingly soothing and a stark contrast to your usual bodily contact during training. It almost made you gasp but you both remained silent, not daring to acknowledge the lingering touch and the tension that was beginning to build. Feeling emboldened, you sat up on your knees to reach across Eric’s lap and check on the bruising of his ribs, his eyes level with your throat as you wiped away the wayward drips of freezing water from his exposed stomach, the muscles trembling beneath your touch. You were distractedly balling up the towel in your fists and preparing to move back to your side of the couch when you felt the dampness of lips at the base of your neck and a thank you murmured into your smooth skin. The pleasure of his warmth against your own had you releasing a soft moan before you came back to yourself.
You felt yourself tense, your eyes flew open and you fell backwards into the armrest, almost winding yourself in the process. You directed your wide-eyed stare towards your leader and the thunderous expression that marred his handsome features sent a wave of fear through you.
“Shit Eric, I’m sorry-” Any chance to explain yourself was crushed by Eric shooting up without even a twinge of pain and marching towards the door.
“Leave.”
You gaped at him for a second before his deepening scowl had you following his orders, looking around the room in shocked desperation. You turned to face him at the entrance with pleading, watery eyes.
“Eric, I-”
The door slammed in your face.
~~~
Saturday was typically a rest day but you often took up residence in the training room to practice your weapons handling so that you weren’t completely idle. Today, however, you fully intended to stay in your room and mope. You had barely slept and had been plagued by the phantom sensation of Eric’s pouty lips against the base of your throat, the memory of his face as you practically leapt across the room to get away from him taunting you every time you closed your eyes.  You had just gotten comfortable with a book when a knock sounded from your door. A spark of hope lit up in your chest at the prospect of it being Eric standing out there in the corridor and you padded your way across the room, aiming for nonchalance but not being able to contain your small smile.
“Will?”
“Don’t seem too disappointed.” Your friends eyes were alight with mirth at your failure to hide your dissatisfaction. “I just came by to ask if you wanted to join me on my run? Christina was saying how your endurance needs some work.”
“That snake.” You scrunched up your nose, but laughter bubbled out of you at the thought of Christina imploring Will to get you to work out. It was your rest day, but a light jog couldn’t hurt. You pulled Will into your apartment by his sleeve and abandoned him in your living room so you could go and change into some proper clothes without leaving him standing in the corridor.  
You were pulling your sports bra over your head when you heard your front door close heavily. Grabbing your running shoes you stepped back into your living room to find that your sweet brunette friend had been replaced by the imposing blond leader you hadn’t been prepared to see.
“Where’s Will?” In your confusion, you had completely forgotten the previous nights dismissal, but you were quickly reminded of it as your eyes landed upon Eric’s tongue, flicking out to moisten his reddened lips. It looked as though he had been chewing on them, they seemed sore and you so desperately wanted to soothe them. His eyes were firmly planted on your chest since it was not particularly well hidden in your current attire.
“I don’t want him sabotaging my hard work.” He pulled his gaze up to your face, registering the look of uncertainty in your eyes, the tips of his ears turning a dark shade of pink.
“I take it the light jog I had planned in now going to be a brutal sprint around the city?” You cocked your hip and crossed your arms, subtly lifting your chest in defiance.
“Of course.” He grinned at you wolfishly, any hint of last nights rage disappearing with a smirk.
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movedtodykedvonte · 1 year
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My biggest pet peeve with Spamton x Readers is how nice they make Spamton. Kris was literally helping him ascend and that bastard still took time to try to scam them.
You’d invite him over to care for him and he’d break half ur shit with no remorse. He’d down play it and maybe give you a miniton or bow tie as compensation. Like have him be sleazy and rude and confused by your kindness, not cause he’s overwhelmed, cause he thinks ur conning him somehow and he wants to make you regret the attempt.
Please keep him garbage for a little longer.
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deus-ex-mona · 3 months
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starting the year ✨wrong✨
#(this is about work ok. long rant in the tags bc auauauauauauauuauauauauauauauaaaaaaaa)#i’ve worked for just t h r e e (3!!!!) days this year and i think im already all burned out lmao#first i was stuck doing 2 workstations bc this freakin’ b o z o of a coworker decided to take the week off without prior notice#and *t h e n* the internal components of one of said workstations kicked the bucket and was only replaced today. sads.#rip to our wasted time and futile fixing efforts though. flashtag wetried#that’s not all t h o u g h i was told that i have to jump to the other work shift bc one of my coworkers is resigning#b u t the thing is. all of the other dudes in that shift are from [insert bordering country] and always speak in their nation’s language#so i won’t be able to communicate well with them for the most part ​esp s o bs#and if [insert country here] has a national holiday and a l l of them decide to take the day off..#well. um. ahahahaha. im ✨screwed✨#(but speaking of taking the day off… one of said guys on that shift has an approved leave for cny. which is funny bc he’s not even chinese)#(rips if the actual other chinese dude on that team has his leave request rejected bc of that guy lol. happy cny to him ig)#a n d also i was made to (sorta) teach these two new coworkers (of sorts) the workstation i’m at for the week#b u t the thing is. i do everything here by left (didn’t receive formal training either lmao sadge)#and i also couldn’t explain anything well in general bc it seems like my flow of thoughts can’t streamline itself ig#so i think i confused the poor guys more than anything. but like. why me??????? aaaauauaaaaaaaaaa#idk why one of them came back for more ‘education’ from me thoughhhhh#i’ve tried teaching ‘em stuff at another workstation before this and my feedback was ‘wait slow down you talk too fast’ s o o o o .#ig i’ll have to guide them though again in the morning though. sighs. this wasnt in my job description :(#speaking of job descriptions though… this h e l l a annoying guy no one likes who resigned a few months ago (to much rejoicing)…#is!!!!! coming!!!! back!!!!! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa#w h y. like. w h y. why is he so attached to this company he l l o? why is our manager so attached to him helloooooooo????? why him???????#our workloads literally t r i p l e when he’s around bc he’s just the way he is. auauauauauauauauaaaaaaaaaaaa#aaaaaaaaaaa i dont wanna work aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa#science industry (derogatory) questionable laboratory conditions (derogatory)#felt cute; thought about retiring early idk
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gt-scribbles · 11 months
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Concept art for a secret project!
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kanthonyficrecs · 3 months
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Featured Fic (Regency Era)
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And the Soul Echoes by RosesAtDawn Rated: G Status: Complete Summary: A young man, sent to the exotic climes of India on behest of his father, is missing home, until his heart finds a home in the most unexpected of places. A young girl, defying her fathers orders, sneaks away to behold the extravagant balls she is so desperate to be a part of, only it is not just the dancing and the beautiful gowns that catch her eye. When fate intervenes, and years pass, will they be able to find each other again? And if they do, will they ever be able forgive themselves or each other?
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spuffyarchive · 9 months
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(love me) as much as your heart can stand by summerfrost [NC-17]
Buffy Summers's foolproof plan for being large with the life again: 1. Break up with Spike 2. Spend more time with Willow and Dawnie 3. No, seriously, break up with Spike 4. Poetry?? Or: Still aimless after being pulled from Heaven and caught up in a dark sexual affair with Spike, Buffy forms an unlikely online friendship with a sweet, lonely poet named William.
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haaam-guuuurl · 2 years
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HSMTMTS has a real knack for spending an entire season going "oh they'd be such a cute couple and perfect together" and then going "lol no, they don't work together bc we decided not to" the next season and completely abandoning ship...
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riickgrimes · 1 year
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they are really going all in on paul and georgia huh
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starcut-sand · 2 months
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also sort of adding on to my other prowlerbyte post (about Margo spending a lot of time in e42 hanging out with Miles G)
Imagine if texture was like. Kind of a novelty to her? Like, remember all the texture there used to be in the world that isn't really there anymore? Really clacky keyboards, curly phone wires, buttons that are actually buttons, stuff like that. For Margo, in her dimension, I think it's worse than ours. The main texture she engages with in her day-to-day life is smooth screens and cyberspace. That, paired with the fact that her parents are not implied to be great, makes me think she's probably got some kind of... sensory deprivation related issues. Like an ipad kid, but probably a bit different?
what does this have to do with prowlerbyte I'm Getting There.
So like, Margo's very enthused over the texture of like, a record player needle on vinyl. Or the little tools and stuff Miles G and Aaron use to actually build their equipment. And et cetera. She really likes using them, and I think Miles (and also Aaron, who cares about her) notices this, and is. slightly concerned? Because it's something that's really normal to him.
Anyway long story short I think he (and maybe Aaron as well, who'd be actually better at it) ends up teaching Margo basic self-defense stuff and more specifically, how to use the punching bag properly. "So your muscles don't atrophy," he tells her, half-joking but also sort of not. She really likes it, though--the weight and the leather of the punching bag against her skin, the burn of her muscles--it's rejuvenating in a way she has a hard time getting in her dimension.
So it becomes another added thing she does in earth-42, and something she and Miles G can do together (even though he's better than her at actual hand-to-hand combat. He'll go easy on her until she catches up). She'll sometimes come over just to use the punching bag randomly--the same way Miles G sometimes uses it after a frustrating time or when he's feeling restless. Or she'll stop to take a break and work out for a minute while they're working on tech stuff.
I think this is something that she really appreciates beyond just how much she likes it--it's something something about being noticed and being supported. Being taken care of, even. But she can't articulate just what it means to her yet.
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sillylittleabyss · 10 months
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The Tiny Zone: The First Trial
One night, on two worlds separated by the vastness of time and space, a man and a woman went to sleep in their beds and woke up somewhere else entirely. Neither of them would ever understand why they were chosen or how they got there, but the strangest things can happen... in the Tiny Zone.
Ethan tossed and grumbled in his sleep. He was having the weirdest dream, a dream of falling and flying and spinning all at once through a kaleidoscope of dizzying colours. His brow creasing, he reached for his blanket - but his hands closed over the empty air. In fact, he realised as he started to blearily regain consciousness, the cold hard surface underneath him didn't feel like his bed at all.
Suddenly aware that something was very wrong, Ethan's eyes shot open. With an intense sense of vertigo, he sat up and took in his new surroundings: he was still wearing the boxers he'd gone to sleep in, but his bedroom had been replaced in the night with a cold, alien chamber of cavernous proportions. Bare walls of sterile plastic stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see, a featureless white cube with a ceiling as tall as a skyscraper.
And he wasn't alone. Ethan's breath caught when he saw her: curled up in the corner, snoozing peacefully with her eyes shut tightly, was the biggest woman - scratch that, the biggest living thing period - that he'd ever seen. She was easily 30 feet tall. Hell, could she be 40? It didn't really matter, because either way he was approximately mouse-sized in comparison.
How is this even possible? Ethan thought frantically to himself. I must still be dreaming!
Ethan gasped as the monster in the corner began to move. Her eyes creaked open and she gave a huge sleepy yawn, stretching out those vast arms and rubbing at the mess of auburn hair that tumbled like vines around her face. He saw that she was wearing soft fuzzy garments covered in little bumblebees, and part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of his situation. Was he really about to be killed by a giant wearing bumblebee pyjamas?
The giantess suddenly gave a start, and Ethan froze as she started to look around the room nervously, her eyes open wide. When she finally spoke, her voice was like a wave of sound rumbling over him.
"H-hello?" Despite her terrifying size, her expression just looked lost and a little scared. "Where am I? Is anyone there?"
There was nowhere to hide in the little room, and it only took a moment before her eyes settled on Ethan. A look of profound confusion crossed her face, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Acutely aware of how measly his little voice sounded coming in the wake of her booming tones, Ethan spoke up.
"Please don't hurt me!" he called out as loud as he could across the vastness of the room. "I don't know how I got here either."
"You're so small!" said the enormous woman. "Why are you so small?"
"I..." That was a good question. Why was he so small? "I'm not small, you're the one who's big! You're enormous!"
"Hey, it's definitely not me! I'm a completely normal size, and I've been watching my weight lately too!"
The gargantuan woman scrambled to her feet as she spoke, and Ethan blanched as she rose to her full height. He'd known she was big, but seeing her tower above him like that... his head barely cleared the tops of her socks! As the giantess took a step towards him, sending shuddering vibrations through the plastic floor, Ethan cowered in fear.
"Woah... hey, little dude." She stopped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just... I have no idea what's going on!"
Cautiously, he lifted his hands from his head. "I don't... I don't know either," he said. "I just woke up and I was here."
She sighed, fiddling with her hair anxiously. "Okay. Well, I'm Riley. If we're going to be stuck here together, we should be on the same team, right?"
Ethan looked at her dubiously. The same team? She was like, a billion times his size! What could he possibly have to offer someone like her? But then again...
"I'm Ethan," he said. Being on Riley's team sounded a lot better than being her enemy, that was for sure. "Thanks for... not squishing me or something."
"Why on Earth would I do that?" Riley said with a quizzical chuckle. She started walking around the room, taking slow careful steps and keeping far from Ethan's corner. "Anyway, we must be here for some reason. There must be... oh. Do you see that?"
He followed her finger with his eyes. Yeah, there was something. The angle made it hard to see from the ground for someone as small as him, but it was...
"It's like, a box. Or a little tunnel or something, in the wall." said Riley, peering into it. "I think I can see something down there!"
She stuck her fingers into the hole, but frustration soon showed on her face. "Dammit," she said. "It's just... too fiddly. Twists and turns all over the place, I can't get my hand in."
Riley suddenly looked thoughtful, and she toyed idly with the buttons of her pyjamas as she turned to give Ethan an appraising look.
"Oh no," he said. "No way. That thing is like twenty stories up."
"Ethan," she said gently, starting to advance on him. "We're going to have to work together if want out of this place. Don't worry, I'll be holding onto you the whole time!"
"That's exactly what I'm worried about!" Ethan cried as she got nearer, taking a step back as she reached out with those huge scary fingers.
"Just... trust me! C'mere!"
Riley dropped to her knees and snatched at him. He tried to scramble between the legs of her pyjama pants, but her hand shot out just a little bit too fast to evade. Ethan paled as she snagged him and pulled him into the air, shuddering in terror as he felt her powerful fingers close tightly around his bare torso.
"Right!" said Riley, straightening and lifting him up to her face with a rush of momentum that made Ethan's head spin. "Now we can actually talk face to face. Wow, you are so small! It's kinda cute, actually!"
Ethan's heart hammered in his chest as Riley's huge brown eyes and lips loomed up in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a panicked gasp came out as he imagined all the various ways she could end his life right now. Squeezing him, dropping him, slipping him between those big soft lips...
"Okay, okay, calm down, dude!" Riley said. "I just wanted to look at you. This would have been way easier if you hadn't freaked out like that."
The wind rushed past his ears again as she swung him around, placing him gently in the entrance to the little plastic tunnel in the wall.
"See? Told you I'm not gonna hurt you. We're both in this thing together, little guy."
Ethan looked down from his new vantage point and immediately regretted it. Retreating into the safety of his little mousehole, he gave her an indignant look. "Please don't do that again." he said.
Riley made a face, but spread her hands in a placating gesture. "So," she said. "Can you see anything in there?"
"Yeah... there's like, a little switch. I think I can get to it..."
Climbing a little deeper in, Ethan found a small red lever - the first Ethan-sized thing he'd seen in this place, he thought - and he pulled on it until it swung down with a click. Almost immediately, a hissing sound started up from the far side of the room. What was previously a flat, featureless wall of white plastic suddenly sprouted a seam, which became a door that hissed open.
Riley beamed and clapped. "You did it, Ethan!" She peered through the newly revealed door, then bounced over to the bolthole and held out her hand, palm out flat, for him to climb onto. "As long as we work together, I bet we'll get out of here in no time!"
Ethan regarded the big, slightly sweaty palm of Riley's hand nervously, glancing up at her open, smiling face. The idea of willingly stepping into her grasp again sent a shiver down his spine - but she really did seem genuine about this whole "working together" thing. And she hadn't hurt him yet, had she?
"OK," he said, stepping out onto her hand. "Let's do this."
---
Read more of my writing on AO3!
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aziraphales-library · 2 years
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hi! thanks for all the work you folks do :) i’m just here to recommend the first good omens fic i ever read, and also my favourite — such surpassing brightness by bibliocratic. it’s an Aziraphale as Patron Saint of Queer People fic and masterfully put together. great characterisation, beautiful and creative writing, the whole nine yards.
Thank you!
such surpassing brightness by bibliocratic [G]
The revelation that Aziraphale might have been in love with him for thousands of years is surprising. The fact that literal books have been written on the subject comes as even more of a shock.
~Mod N
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antoncrane · 1 year
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Me: I’m going to write a super slow burn romance. Also Me: Why aren’t they kissing yet.
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