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zzprompto · 8 months

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☆ new, weird feelings

choso kamo x male reader [he / him]

sypnosis: choso feels really weirdly towards [name]. he doesn't know what this feeling is, but it doesn't feel bad at all.. (meant to be viewed as romantic)

the lowercase is intentional !

choso couldn't understand what this feeling was. it was different to how he felt towards all his younger brothers, and it was different to how he felt towards basically everyone else. you made him feel new things.

these feelings didn't make choso feel bad. in all honesty, they made him feel good inside. but he just couldn't understand why he was feeling this way only towards you and nobody else.

whenever he saw you, a pit would grow in his stomach and his face would grow hot. he didn't understand why! was he growing a fever? was he alergic to you? he seriously didn't know.

everytime choso tried to talk to you, his brain seemed to stop cooperating. he couldn't form a sentence, or even say a word to you. and still, the poor man didn't understand why. it wasn't like your cursed technique, or lack of one, made him like this, so what was it?

if someone mentioned you whilst he was around, whether that was itadori or another person linked to you, choso always found himself stopping in place. his ears would perk up and he would freeze on the spot. just the mention of your name did things to him. he felt fireworks going off in his mind, and his pale face heated up. but of course, choso didn't understand what was wrong with him. maybe he should go to a doctor..

of course, the half - cursed didn't go to a doctor though. he hadn't been to one in centuries anyway and all of his so called 'symptoms' would probably make the doctor laugh. so, he went to the next best option...

...you.

because you were the cause of all of choso's problems, he figured he would easily be able to solve it with your help. you'd probably know what's wrong with him.. right?

so, choso set out to find you. once he did, he stopped in his tracks. all of his 'symptoms' were coming back. choso's face was growing hot, a red tint growing on his pale face. a pit formed in his stomach, as if it was being swarmed by butterflies. his mouth went dry to the point where he couldn't say what he wanted to say to you.

luckily, you notice him and you turn your attention towards him with a smile. oh how your smile pangs his heart.. what are you doing to him?

"choso!" you beam, definitely excited to see the named ravenette. "what're you doing here?" you smile at him, tilting your head to get a better view of him.

your voice, your looks, your everything... it's doing something to him and he seriously doesn't know what! he feels like he's going to turn into a puddle because of how hot he feels right now.

choso tries to say something. his mouth opens, but it quickly shuts again. he doesn't know what to say to you. you're doing too much to him..

you look at him with a raised eyebrow, confused as to why he's not saying anything. yes, choso was the more reserved and calm type, but he said more words than none. "are you alright?" you ask, trying to get at least something out of him.

choso just nods meekly. again, he's not able to comprehend any sentences right now. he has to calm down before he can speak. or maybe he won't calm down because you're right infront of him.

"you're.. you're doing something to me." choso finally speaks up but in a hushed tone. once he finishes speaking, his mouth shuts again and he looks away from you. he's too embarrassed, or maybe it's not embarrassment, but something else?

you look at him confused, not understanding what he's trying to say. "what do you mean, choso?" you shake your head, truly not understanding what he meant.

the way you said his name just made him feel like he was melting again.. but he had to compose himself and try and get these words out.

"you make me feel weird." choso starts, not knowing how to describe it best for you to understand. "anytime i'm with you, i feel all warm inside. it feels like my stomach hurts too. do i need a doctor?" he asks. you laugh a little at his question, finding it funny how oblivious choso is to love.

you step a little closer to choso, practically closing the gap that was between the two of you. "you definitely don't need a doctor, all you need is me." you whisper before pressing your lips against choso's cheek. you wanted to make sure he felt okay with a kiss on the cheek before you moved onto anything else.

and there it was again, the butterflies in his stomach, the heat inside him, the inability to comprehend what's going on with him. choso was so confused, and you just kissed his cheek!

"i think you like me, romantically. i guess you've just always focused on your brothers and how to protect them that you didn't know what romance was like." you shrug, taking a step back to give choso some time to process. the ravenette slowly nodded, understanding what you said to an extent.

choso then pondered for a moment, looking down at the floor as he did. "but, do you feel this way about me too?" he asked, meeting your eyes now. he hoped you felt the same. he wanted you to feel the same.

"yes, i wouldn't of kissed your cheek otherwise." you laugh slightly, a smile still on your face as you also met eyes with choso. "i like you, a lot. romantically."

this time, choso steps forward. he's the one to close the distance and initiate stuff between the two of you now. he puts a hand on your cheek and he looks at you, a small smile tugging at his lips too. he then softly presses his lips against yours for a soft, sweet kiss.

choso was glad his feelings led to this moment. it was perfect, idyllic, picturesque. it was everything and more that he could've dreamed of. and he wouldn't of had it any other way.

☆ request ▪︎ masterlist

☆ author's note: i love choso. him in the new ep !!

#choso kamo #choso x male reader #choso kamo x male reader #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x male reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen season 2 #x male reader #foryou #gay #x reader

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froggibus · 10 months

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Your Summer Together - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Shoko Ieiri

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn! reader, Suguru Geto x gn! reader, Shoko Ieiri x gn! reader

Genre: pure fluff hcs

Summary: just some hcs of what your summer would be like while dating one of the core three

CW: established relationship, s2! Shoko, Geto and Gojo, they’re still students at Jujutsu Tech in this, mentions of drinking/smoking

so I think it’s plain to see that JJK2 is rotting my brain rn. shoko’s design is absolute PEAK and I am in love w all three of them. this is meant to take place around 2006 while they’re still students at the academy, but you could probably take it either way. anyway, would love some JJK requests of these three if anyone else has brain rot 😭 also I am now completely caught up on the manga and idk what to do w my life

————

Satoru Gojo:

lots and lots of sweets

definitely takes you to the arcade so you can watch him set the high score on games

“babe are you watching? babe pls”

he is CLINGY too

always following you around and practically glued to your side

whenever one is seen without the other, Geto and Shoko always ask where your “carry on” is

he is the EXPERT at sneaking around too

knows every single place you can make out during the day without getting caught

and makes a point of using ALL of them

takes refuge in your room whenever he’s done stuff to piss someone off (usually Yaga)

probably sleeps more in your room than he does in his own

like to the point your bed always smells like him and there’s always candy wrappers on his nightstand

gives you lots of random gifts too

from pretty flowers he found to expensive jewelry and clothes

just loves to spoil you

takes you to almost every summer event

fireworks? he’s taking you to the best spot in the city

expect lots of beach days too

this man will drag you out every day and make you watch him show off in the water

"babe babe watch this"

also ice cream dates!!

being stuck between two flavors so Gojo gets one and you get the other and the two of you share

really it’s just an excuse for him to have more sugar

you will be sick to death of him by the end of the summer

Suguru Geto:

expect lots of third wheeling from Gojo

like lots

like you cannot get rid of this man no matter how hard you try

sneaking around a lot to avoid Gojo

lots of sleepovers in each others dorms (and hiding from Yaga)

takes you around the city and shows you all of his favorite places too

expect lots and lots of random dates too

like going to the aquarium and then having sushi???

but also plans really cute activities for the two of you

takes you to places with really good views to watch the sunset

and plans for you to spend a night in the city just to get away

doesn’t like the beach but will definitely go if you want to (although he spends the whole day laying in the sand unless you beg him to come in the water)

looks damn fine in a bathing suit too

movie nights w the core three!!

definitely more of a reader and will compare the book to the movie

and you, Gojo and Shoko will be telling him to shut up

after everyone falls asleep on the couch, definitely starts being more affectionate to you

also brunch dates!!

this man is a sucker for brunch

tries to get one last get away with you at the end of the summer too

Shoko Ieiri:

expect lots of teasing from Gojo and Geto

but dw because there will be absolutely NO third wheeling

knows every place in the city she can get alcohol + smokes

takes you to a bunch of cool lowkey places that you’ve never heard of before either

she’s not a big fan of public events or big crowds, but you can probably convince her to go to a couple

lots of lazy mornings and afternoons together

also gets away with way more than the other two because she’s way less annoying

so less sneaking around too

cannot cook to save her life so more often than not you guys go out for food or order take out

staying up way too late + sleeping in together

makes you watch all of her favorite movies and watches you the whole time to see how you react

not nearly as horny as the other two but definitely gets some affection in too

you guys go bathing suit shopping and she insists on seeing every single one on you

gets you all flustered with her comments too

not one for the beach but Gojo probably drags everyone out at some point

she’ll help you apply her sunscreen but will not swim unless you drag her out there

Gojo probably throws her in at some point and she almost kills that man

she is the cocktail queen!!

like she will make you the tastiest, coolest, prettiest cocktail you’ve ever seen in your life

Gojo and Geto definitely treat her like their personal bartender

also takes lot of pics of the two of you together + has them strung up above her bed

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miguels-talons · 11 months

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my brain thinking about the ramifications and effects the body modifications have on miguel after he gets his spider powers.

like he has to get used to the new huge ass fangs in his mouth, so at first he's constantly biting the insides of his cheeks, lips and tongues. the inside of his mouth looked like a WARZONE after they first grew in. and the venom leaking out of his fangs while he's drinking lazily and it tasting like the worst shit ever and he just tiredly pours the cup out.

or how many sets of sheets, blankets, clothes, shoes and socks he goes through because of his finger and toe talons when he's first learning how to keep his talons down. he had to order so many new replacements cause his talons just ripped everything to shreds. wakes up in the morning to his blankets and sheets in strings and he tiredly says to lyla, "order a new bed set again." and she happily asks, "should we make this a reoccurring thing for everyday day :)?"

getting used to his light sensitive eyes just have been a horrible experience for him. he's always squinting and covering his eyes when he's outside in the sunlight without his sunglasses. when he has his specially designed glasses, he wears them everywhere (this is canon), even inside. but when he loses his glasses he wants to cry because how the shock is he supposed to deal with today?? he keeps the lights off at his house most of the time because, hey, he can just see perfectly in the dark anyways, so what's the problem? he hates fireworks because they're too sudden and bright and oh shock they just blinded him.

the spinnerets in his forearms bruising his arms and making them itch incessantly when they produce too much webbing and he doesn't use enough of it. he'll find an empty alleyway and just go nuts webbing everything up to get them to stop itching and aching because how can he go through his day with them brushing and swelling up? god. i can imagine at points his bedroom is just a huge mess of webs because he was too lazy to leave one day and sprayed his webbing across his wall, floor and ceiling. he hates to clean them up but he never learns.

and don't even get me started on the rest of his enhanced senses. i bet he nearly jumps out of his skin everytime someone drops a pin in an otherwise silent room or wants to cry whenever somebody sprays a perfume that wouldn't normally even be considered a strong smell. he can see colors regular people can't even imagine and hear things that otherwise wouldn't be heard.

can you tell i've thought about this kind of thing before?

#i love him so much #he's so silly and i want him to deal with silly things #wow i talk #miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #spider man across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv #into the spider verse #spider man #marvel

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deathbecomesthem · 1 month

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Crawling to the Finish | Part 1 of 4 | 2.6K

I am queuing up all 4 parts of this story, and they will all be released throughout the week on the dates that are indicated on the Materlist. This story is already completed, and I do not intend to revisit it for editing. My emotional labor on this one has already been done.

Warnings: There will be lots of descriptions of medical stuff. The reader is physically disabled due to an undefined accident. Major bone trauma. Lots of talk about pain. Later parts are going to have smut, because disabled people have sex like everyone else.

Summary: You have to go back to school while still recovering from surgery. Principal Higgins is determined to make you as comfortable as possible, so he assigns someone to help you get around.

A/N: The physical disability described in this series are my own. The experiences are very close to what my own. Be kind.

This one goes out to CJ - you helped me carry my books my junior and senior years of high school because you got to leave class early. You were a real one.

The crutches rubbed the skin of your armpits raw. You’d tried everything. Your mom has sewn pieces of flannel over the arm rests to try to make it more comfortable. It didn’t matter. The only solution was to give it time, let your skin grow tougher. These crutches would be your best friends for the foreseeable future.

The immediate concern after your initial recovery was getting you back to “normal” life. That meant school. The thought of trying to wade through the crowds at Hawkins High while balancing on your crutches was enough to send you into a fury. It was so unfair. Your parents and the administration were determined to make it work.

You would be allowed to leave your classes 5 minutes early, working your way through empty hallways. You could carry your backpack to your classes, despite the rule about keeping them in lockers. You can’t imagine trying to rest your tender hip on the cold desks that could be found in every classroom, but Principal Higgins has a solution for that. One that you’ve promised yourself you’ll never use.

“I’m not sitting on a donut.” Your mom has tried to show you how much more comfortable you would be sitting on a donut designed for hemorrhoid pain. “I’d rather die. I’ll deal with the pain.”

Dealing with the pain was something you always did. You learned early on that complaining about it wouldn’t make it lessen, it just made the people around you make sympathetic noises that set you on edge.

Being on edge is your new normal. Everything set you off. You took everything personally. If someone was overly nice to you, you took it as an insult. Everyone wanted to help, but you wanted to do it yourself. You were so tired of people using you to make themselves feel better. “Oh, I helped that poor cripple girl today when she was struggling with the door. Aren’t I special?”

So, you taught yourself how to do everything – with adjustments. Because you didn’t want to miss out on more than you had to. You gained stamina. You once crutched 3 miles with a group of friends to watch a fireworks display. It almost killed you, and you couldn’t lift your arms the following day, but you did it. And you watched those fireworks with your head rested in your boyfriend’s lap. He never asked if you were ok. He never suggested that maybe he should have stayed back with you and watched them from the back of his truck. So, you did it, and you hid the pain.

It only reinforced the idea that you had to be better at pretending to be fine when that same boyfriend cheated on you while you were in the hospital recovering from surgery last year. You had insisted he not miss junior prom because of you, insisted he take your friend. Megan was one of your best friends, and she was more than happy to do it. You didn’t know that they’d been secretly fucking for months.

Your brain knew that he was a dick, and that what he did was fucking awful. You also knew that you were a burden to everyone around you. Of course he wanted out, but how do you break up with a cripple without being an asshole? The answer was that you didn’t. But that was last year, and this year you didn’t have to worry about boys and friends. You just had to worry about making it to graduation. Fuck the rest of it. You would crawl onto that stage if you had to.

The first morning back to school after the most recent surgery came halfway through your senior year, 3 weeks after having your sixth major hip repair surgery. The previous five were failures. This is a last-ditch effort with a new surgeon. As soon as you turned 18, you left the pediatric orthopedic surgeon you’d been seeing for the last 5 years – he was one of the best in the country – to see someone new. Someone that wouldn’t attach the expectations of pediatric care with your treatment plan anymore. You need a life, and you’ve already lost so much time.

When you saw the new doctor, he looked at your images and said, “this is a mess.” One 6-inch rod attached to your thigh bone and at least 8 pins holding the failed hip fusion in place. His treatment plan was, “let’s take it all out and see what happens.” He promised if you gave it a full 6 weeks to see what happens, he’d do a full replacement. He’d give you your life back.

So, you let him have his little experiment with you. You let your parents hope for some miracle, let them ask their church friends to pray for you. You give your doctor the agreed upon 6 weeks to ”see what happens”, and then he’ll take that diseased bone out of your body and replace it with metal, plastic, and ceramic.

Today is the day you crutch your ass back into high school and try to have a normal day. Completing course work at home has been a breeze, but the district is determined to not be labeled as unfriendly to disabled people, so you’re here now. The first three periods are ok, it’s English, Algebra, and a typing class. Painful, but bearable. The fourth class of the day, American History, started with a bang.

Mr. Willis is a short man with a perpetually annoyed expression. He is known for openly mocking his female students. His room smelled of onions, and his short sleeved white button up shirts always sported yellow-green armpit stains. The onion smell was always worse when he moved around the room, his arms lifted high in the air to get a point across.

The class starts, as all classes do, with a roll call. Perfectly reasonable, nothing out of the ordinary until he reaches your name.

“Y/N – you’re gracing us with your presence today?” His eyes are glaring at you from behind his desk. “That’s a shame.” He stands and walks over to you, his stench trailing behind him, “I need you to go to Vice Principal Brobeck’s office immediately.” He has a disciplinary slip already filled out in his hand.

“What?” You can’t help your tone; it’s confused and annoyed. How could you possibly be in trouble when it’s been weeks since you last sat at this desk.

“Your truancy needs to be addressed by the administration. A string of unexcused absences. Go!” He barks out the last, finger pointing to the door, and you can’t help but scoff at him.

“Uh, fine, I’ll go. Can I ask you, though, are you blind?” You wave your crutches at him while trying to maneuver and get your backpack over your shoulders. “I had surgery.”

He prattles on about your tone and lack of respect to your back as you crutch your way down the long hallway to the administrative offices for the school. You were exhausted already, and adding another trip around the school with your heavy backpack left you feeling angry. You could feel hot tears of frustration burning behind your eyes while you stumble a little at the office door.

The secretary has you take a seat in one of the soft cushion chairs in the entryway, which is a small mercy for your sore hip. Someone is sitting next to you, but you barely register his presence in your current state of distress and pain.

“Uh, what the hell did you do to get sent down to the office?” His voice is playful with you, but you’re not in the mood to engage with anyone.

“My existence in this building is enough, apparently.”

Before he can manage a response, the Vice Principal’s door opens, and he calls your name. The boy in the chair next to you tries to help with your bag, but you just snatch it out of his hands and throw it over your shoulders before crutching into the inner office.

“So, Mr. Willis says you’ve been truant. Do you have an explanation?” You can tell by his glassy eyes that he’s just going through the motions without actually taking in the situation sitting right in front of his face.

“I’m sorry, are you serious right now?” This gets his attention. You can practically see smoke coming out of his ears at your attitude, until he really takes a look at you. The crutches, the obvious pain in your face. “I’ve been out for 3 weeks because I had surgery. I’m back because Principal Higgins insisted the school could accommodate my needs. Call my parents if you want.”

He has your mother on the phone in an instant. You imagine her sitting at the kitchen table just waiting for a call from the school, which is probably exactly what she’s been doing. She’s devoted years to your recovery. As soon as Mr. Brobeck says the word “truant”, you can hear her yelling through the phone line, demanding to speak to Principal Higgins. So it goes.

The boy is still sitting in a chair waiting for whatever punishment is coming for him when you exit the office with both principals at your heels. Higgins is falling all over himself apologizing, promising you’ll have no more problems with Mr. Willis when he spots Eddie.

“Munson, you want to get out of detention?” Your eyes are drawn back to the boy, finally taking him in fully. He’s shaggy haired, wearing leather and denim with big rings adorning his hands. A metalhead. In Hawkins.

“Uh, yes sir.” He’s standing wearing an open face, ready to accept any terms that are offered to him. Your assumption is that most of the staff at the school would use any excuse to give him detention or get him expelled.

“Y/N is going to need someone to help her get from class to class,” You start to protest, but Higgins speaks over you, “how do you feel about taking on that responsibility? You’ll have to leave your classes a few minutes early and make sure she can get around the school without a problem.”

“Of course. If that’s ok with her.” He looks to you. You have no choice but to agree, how can you say no with him looking at you like that? His eyes pleading.

So, it was decided. Eddie Munson, the problem child of Hawkins, would escort you between classes. The assumption from Higgins is that you’ll be happier with a little errand boy helping you, but this boy likes to talk.

“So, what’s with the sticks?” He’s sitting with you while you wait for the hallways to clear before heading to your next class. Would it be rude to tell him to leave me alone?

“It’s complicated. I had surgery a few weeks ago. I’ll probably have another one in a few weeks.” It’s all you can offer.

“Woah, that sucks. Are you new? I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you here before.”

“Not new. I’ve lived in Hawkins forever.” You could explain that you’ve been in and out of school for the last few years due to your accident and subsequent surgeries, but you don’t have the strength. It also bores you to think about having that conversation with someone new.

“Really? How have I never seen you before?” He’s trying to be friendly. Don’t be a dick to him.

“I don’t know, maybe you’re just not very perceptive.” It’s a low blow, but he laughs at it, which is promising. “Listen, I’m really drained. Can we just sit here?”

“Yeah, no problem. Sorry.” He looks genuinely apologetic, but something about this interaction is different than what you’re used to. He’s not looking at you like you’re broken. He’s talking to you with interest, not pseudo sympathy.

“It’s ok. Ask me questions another time.” You let your head lean back against the wall and try to block out the noise in the room, and the pain zipping down your leg. This last surgery was a short one, but it left you drained. You feel loose, like your body is coming apart without the metal holding you together. You think it must be in your head, and remind yourself that you only need to get through a few weeks of this. It’s nothing, a few weeks is nothing.

You and Eddie have lunch together at his regular lunch table, which you agreed to because he promised his friends would leave you alone if he told them to. And they did, mostly, even though you got a lot of side eyes. Especially from the younger ones. You could see them practically vibrating with the need to talk to you. Especially the one in the hat. You can tell he’s gonna go for it before his mouth even opens.

“So, Eddie tells us he’s helping you get around for your classes.” The kid is being casual, and it’s so endearing, you can’t even be mad. A pretzel hits the kid in the face, Eddie looks like he’s ready to leap over the table and strangle him.

“Down boy, it’s ok.” You give him a little smile, so he knows you’re not mad. “Yes, Eddie’s helping me so he can get out of detention. It works out.” You give the kid the best smile you can manage, which you’re sure looks weak on your blood drained face.

The boy nods a little and says, “That’s a sweet deal for him, though, isn’t it? He gets to leave classes early and he gets out of detention.” Another pretzel is lobbed at the kid’s face, and now you’re giggling.

“You’re definitely right, I’m not sure what I’m getting out of it.”

“Can I ask –“ before the words come out of his mouth, Eddie is walking over to put his arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“Dustin, what did we talk about?” Dustin, you’ll remember that.

“You said that you had a friend joining us and we had to leave her alone. But –“ Eddie tightens his grip, but Dustin persists, “BUT, I just want her to know that as a fellow disabled person, she can talk to me! Ok, I’m done now.”

The rest of the lunch period goes by without any incidents, but Dustin does slide over half of his oatmeal cookie to you at one point with a giant grin on his face. You mouth a little “thanks” and give him a weak smile.

Eddie gets you to and from the last few classes of the day, and even walks you out to your car after your last class. As the day goes on you, you decide to accept his help with as much grace as you can. Especially because the situation is actually helping him too. It makes it easier to swallow. Less like pity.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning, Ilene.” His delivery of the joke is lame, and you let it hang in the air for a minute, letting him squirm. “You get it? Ilene?”

“Yeah, I get it Eddie.” You let your face fall, casting your eyes to the floor of your car. “That’s really insensitive. Maybe I should tell Principal Higgins to get me a new errand boy.” You’re trying to bite back the smirk his lame joke is threatening to bring to your mouth.

“I’m sorry, I thought it was funny –“

You’re giggling at his panic, “Eddie, that joke was so lame, it offended me. Do better. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x disabled!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #disability in fanfiction

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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months

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Platonic tadc cast with a child reader Who is like :

"hey, wanna see me do a cartwheel :D"

Basically very spontaneous and chaotic in the adventures lol

Ty!! (and remember to drink water) ;3

TADC cast x chaotic!kid!reader ! (Platonic)

Guys I'm literally so tired I just got done baking a ton of stuff, like I'm talking 12ish hours of non stop cooking and baking I'm going insane im trying so hard not to fall asleep rn because I kinda. Feel bad for not really answering requests today

Anywahs

Hope you enjoy anon!

Written on mobile

CAINE:

Well well how the turn tables (writing caines portion last for once)

Very similar to kinger and ragatha in that he supports everything you do; in fact he encourages your behavior as long as no one is getting hurt. Very loudly (and sometimes obnoxiously) cheers for you

While kinger can only cheer and clap, I think Caine sets off sparkles and fireworks... probably has a whole group of bubbles cheering you on too , assuming there can be multiple bubbles at any given time (I personally think there can be, and they all share a hivemind of sorts)

So what was the occasion that prompted that?

A wonky cartwheel, of which you excited called "a sideways front flip"

(Fun fact from the admin, I called my first cartwheel that bc I didnt know it was called a cartwheel yet)

POMNI:

Anxious parental figure and hyper child, a dynamic that's hit or miss at least for me. Really it depends on how its executed

That said I think she struggles to keep up with you

Constantly scrambling around you make sure you dont fall into any danger. Literally and figuratively...

Her attempts to get you to sit down for more than five minutes fail

Your ass is failing the marshmallow test/j

RAGATHA:

No thoughts only that one clip from adventure time where BMO pretends to be a wheathervane before trying to nose dive off the roof, all while calling for finns attention. Thats you and ragatha, basically (in essence, not exact scenario though)... maybe zooble too, but we'll get there when we get there (I am currently having a brain blast)

Says things like "what am I gonna do with you" everyday, always lightheartedly of course and usually accompanied by a tired chuckle

Generally very supportive of you though, just so long as you're not hurting yourself! Sure, this is the digital world and injuries dont really stick, but still! The pain is still there

JAX:

I mentioned the marshmallow test in pomnis part and I feel like jax would do something similar with you. Except the test is rigged and the candy (which he uses in place of the marshmallow( is actually for him and not for you. So if you actually earn the extra candy you dont even get it

That said I do think jax would feel bad when you get upset about the joke

Anyways

I think he finds it funny, as long as you're not tugging on his overalls and screaming at him for something, or interfering with his plans

Hes not a neglectful rolemodel/familial figure, he just has a short fuse with the above I think, regardless of who it is, kid or not

That said he fully embraces your spontaneous nature

KINGER:

Peepaw and his grandchild, that's it that's literally the dynamic

"Kinger is only 48-"

Hush♡

"Oh that's so lovely, (reader)" when you run up to him with your hands full of god knows what

Eagerly claps and cheers when you show him a new trick you learned

Bonus if you try to recreate or one up his embellished stories in order to make him proud of you (hes always proud of you)

ZOOBLE:

As mentioned in ragathas part, the wheathervane BMO thing is basically in essence you guys' dynamic. Except where I think ragatha would be quicker to pay attention to you, zooble may be a little slower. Not because they dont care about whatever you're trying to display to them, but because I think a lot of the times they kind of mentally check out (me too honestly)

Tries to scold you if you do something too dangerous or out of line, may come across as way angrier or upset than they actually are though thanks to their voice being kinda

You know

Zooble gives off "cool older sibling who doesnt care about nothing" energy

GANGLE:

Meekly tries to get you to calm down for a few minutes, especially if theres an IHA going on because she doesnt want you to run off and potentially get hurt. Tries to keep you occupied with arts and crafts. Watches in horror as you impulsively eat the glue

Tends to wrap one of her ribbon hands around yours so she knows you're not running off.. this is more so when theres an IHA going on

As per usual not many ideas for gangle <\3

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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palmtreesx3 · 1 year

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Seeing Stars

I don't often share the words that vomit from my own head, but from what started as Hot Tub Steve appreciation inspired by the artist formerly known as @willowherbal (*insert Hunger Games 3 finger salute in memorial*) and the masterpiece that was Be With You Everywhere - Hot Dog Steve emerged and I couldn't remove the bumbling idiot from the depths of my brain. So thanks for that @sweetsweetjellybean @crappymixtape @superblysubpar

Steve Harrington x FEM!reader

Summary: The crew finally decides it's time to start celebrating the 4th of July again, but Steve Harrington finds he can't stop himself from staring.

References to past trauma, a dash of NSFW, staring, glaring and illusions to a hot tub hook up

Part 2: A Girl Like You

_________

It was hot. Not oppressive. Not stifling. But the kind of hot that has you seeing stars at one in the afternoon. Sunbeams bouncing off pool water, sunglass lenses and sweat glistening skin - not sure if you're more desperate for the cold beer or sticking your hand in the ice cold cooler to grab it in the first place.

Honestly, it's everything you could want for a celebratory, classic, absolutely patriotic 4th of July, but things are different at this particular picnic. It's been a few years, but the innocent holiday full of sparklers, sweet watermelon juice running down your chin and late night fireworks just hasn't been the same since everything that happened that year at Starcourt. It was when everything you thought you knew about the place you grew up changed in an instant and this motley crew welcomed you into their fold. Since then, most have pretended it was any other day, hiding away trying to busy themselves with whatever they can to avoid the Americana laced trauma.

You don't know whose idea it was to finally put a pin in the escapism, and while most tentatively agreed that it was about time you knock down the walls you all built to hide away the day, everyone unanimously also agreed they didn't want to spend it with anyone else that wouldn't understand. So that's how you found yourself here, hiding away for the holiday in the backyard of the Harrington house, poolside with people you grew up way too fast alongside, and others who are now far too grown to be the kids you once cared for. It's still surreal to you to think you can find yourself comfortably sitting here at this house with any of these people - none of whom (save the kids) were you big fans of before that star spangled day from hell all those years ago.

You were splayed out now, towel rolled up under your neck, daydreaming. Trying hard not to have your thoughts float back to all that you've collectively been through and instead on all the things you wish would go right from here on out. Behind a soundtrack of laughing, splashing and American Woman playing loud on the radio, you were grateful for the comfort of these people who turned into lovely friends and imagining the potential of a fresh start ahead after just finishing up your college degree that past spring. Things feeling far enough in the past to even consider what a future could look like.

That sparkling, blinking sunshine brought you back to reality - sunglasses snatched from your face in an instant by a meddling Dustin dashing by. The kids all now playing hot potato with your Ray Bans, you sigh before calling out "After all these fuckin years, you still think you can get under my skin? You know you're not 13 anymore, right?!" They laugh and you smile, because your favorite pastime is giving them as much shit as they can handle.

You squint hard against the blistering sun and in that moment become blissfully aware of the sweat dripping down your body. You casually reach in your bag, grab a second set of sunglasses and pop them on your nose while you swing your legs over the side of the lounge chair, considering your next move.

In that moment, your eyes catch on the steam now rising from the grill on the other side of the yard, Steve standing behind it ready to throw on a round of hot dogs to feed the ravenous troops. He's in navy blue swim trunks slung low and cut high, sunglasses perched on his head and a scowl of concentration on his brow. You selfishly pause for a moment to take him in, standing there so much more a man these days than before, but you quickly shake it off like you always have and make your way back over to the coolers, reaching in for a new can of beer and a handful of ice.

Behind the grill, Steve is doing everything he can to hold it together. He's kept himself busy today, lucky enough to be able to hide behind playing host in order to avoid suspicion. His issue isn't even the holiday - he doesn't need the 4th of July to remind him of his torture. He has chronic headaches and a ringing in his left ear to take care of that. His issue is you. You and the new view he has of you now that he's standing there behind the steaming hot dogs.

He takes a moment to gather himself, running both hands through his hair. You've never been one to fall for his charms. Not the King Steve brand nor the genuine yet still cavalier one that came after he actually got his shit together. He never did shy away from poking and prodding and exploring what he could get away with, but you…you always threw it right back at him. Playing what you assumed was a game of banter meant to keep each other on your toes - what he assumed was your attempt to remind him that you never really chose to be his friend. Despite everything you have gone through together, your friendship still felt a mile away from him and any semblance of a chance with you arguably further. He knows how you feel - felt? - about King Steve and he's pretty sure you being in his life is meant to be yet another reminder of what a shit person he used to be. So instead he settles for teasing and friendly yet biting remarks all soothed by his own fleeting glances.

And God damnit if he isn't cashing in on those fleeting glances today. He's pretty sure he's had to duck away inside the house at least twice to hide his half hard cock as he caught a glimpse of you sunbathing, sweat glistening on your tits in your festive red bikini or bending over, ass on full display, leaning deep into the cooler to pass out another round of beers to the group, including the kids who are now old enough for no one to give a shit if they have one, too. It's a challenge he wasn't aware he needed to be ready for. A battle of wills that makes tossing a molotov cocktail at an otherworldly monster seem like child's play.

Yet here he stands, making himself as busy as he fuckin can at the grill while you pass back over with a group to sit down again on the lounge chairs. Someone turns the radio up while you and Robin stand up and start belting out Wilson Phillips' "Hold On" to whoops and cheers from everyone around you. It's in that moment he slides his sunglasses down off his head knowing full well he will not be able to pretend he isn't watching you intently without the safety of his dark shades covering his eyes. He's taking deep breaths counting the hot dogs back and forth and back and forth again to ground himself when you run up next to him, out of breath from the sprint over, the singing, the dancing or all three combined and shove a can in his face.

"Can't forget the grill master, huh? Do me a favor and don't burn the dogs."

" Uh, yeah. Yeah, thanks." He stumbled out. Normally he keeps his composure and plays his role giving you some bite in his responses, but you've already derailed him and he's pretty sure the sun is frying his brain while he's at it. So now you're here, standing there completely thrown off.

"You okay there, Harrington? "

He grumbles out a hum and you leave him be, figuring he may need a few more beers or a whole new personality, because every time you consider dropping the snarky act with him he totally blows you off and can't be bothered to speak to you in full sentences. He's come such a long way and you want to let the past be the past entirely, but you find that you're irritated with yourself for even looking his way when he acts like that, so you come to give it to him harder next time.

Everyone has settled in again with their fresh drinks and full bellies, some playing a card game on the pool deck, a group taking a break from the water spread out in the grass and others bobbing in the pool. You take the opportunity now that the pool is calm and all games of chicken are nowhere to be found and slide in too, deciding to be unbothered by whatever the fuck is going on with Steve. You grab a hold of a float and kick your feet up so you're floating on your belly, arms folded on your float and head turned to the side resting in the cool water. After a best of silence you spin yourself around, ready to strike up a conversation with Nancy about her own post-college plans when you catch it. The sunglasses are just low enough on the bridge of his nose to catch a glimpse of the direction of his eyes and you are one thousand percent sure that before you turned your float around abruptly, Steve Harrington was staring hard at your ass. Fuckin typical.

Your conversations continue to flow, you join in on games of Rummy and races in the pool. You find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Max on your towels in the grass giving the girl the kind of advice you know she needs. And all the while you feel his eyes. You thought the first one was a fluke - of course Steve Harrington would oggle any ass put in his view - but now you're not so sure. Because normally with you, he'd follow up his blatant stare with some kind of bite or tease, telling you to put your ass away before someone uses it as a flotation device. Instead every time you think you might be catching him staring you down behind his sunglasses he makes himself busy and jams another hotdog in his mouth. At this point you think he's eaten at least 6.

It's late now, and the group starts moving inside, picking a movie and settling in cozy spaces to wind down from the day. Everyone falls into their normal movie night rhythms, bickering over movies, Dustin talking through the opening credits and flicking the lights off for the ambiance. You find yourself in your favorite movie night chair, giant Hawkins High Tshirt slung over your now dry bikini, feet with red painted toes hanging over the armrest, when you're certain you feel it again - eyes on you in the dark of the room.

Robins first to fall asleep, unabashed snores falling from her for far too long before Steve nudges her and tells her to go the fuck upstairs and get to bed already. He leaves to set her up in one of the guest rooms and you can hear now that instead of returning to the movie hes clanging around the kitchen cleaning up from the day. The others also start, sun-beat and slightly buzzed, nodding off into a comfortable slumber around you, and you don't hear Steve padding around the kitchen any longer, so you also assume he has packed it in and went to bed.

When you quietly snuck back outside, walking while shedding your oversized t-shirt yet again in favor of a quiet moment in the Harrington's new hot tub under the stars, the last thing you were expecting to see when the shirt lifted over your head was Steve, already perched there in the bubbles.

" I thought for sure you had already gone to bed. " You say into the silence. He has yet to really acknowledge you so now you're even more confused than before.

At this point, you're fully committed, shirt already off so you climb in, with or without his permission to join. Dipping your toes in and lowering yourself into the jets, you catch him looking before he looks away and you've about had it. You know you might come off strong here, maybe a bit bitchy…and the way he's sitting there with shoulders freckled by the sun and his chest hair all on display under the jets has you second guessing your frustrated emotions, but you don't let what's in front of you distract you. You stick to your guns and open your mouth.

"What the fuck is your problem today, Harrington. I know we're not the closest, but I thought we were friends and I'm not sure what I did to offend you?"

" Offend me? I - uh, shit. What do you mean? "

" Well you won't stop staring me down today, so either I did something to offend you or you can't help yourself enjoying this fucking impeccable view. " And as you say it, you genuinely feel that it's just a normal bite back. A tease that is on par for your friendship. It's when you see the look on his face after you say it that changes everything. He looks like a puppy dog. One that's waiting to be kicked after sifting through the garbage. Like a little kid with their hand in the cookie jar. Like he's just been caught red white and blue handed at his own fucking 4th of July picnic because he wasn't able to tear his eyes away from your body. Oh my God.

"I-it's not, I mean...I...guess it is, fuck. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. Y-you just… . "

You watch him stumble over his words - a literal feat for someone who used to wear a crown like King Steve - and see him slowly slink down until only his eyes and nose remain above the bubbling water, shutting himself up without fail. Of course he acts like this with you. How is he supposed to ever convince you he's not an ounce of that old disgusting version of Steve if he can't act civilized around you even when you're in a bathing suit. His eyes closed slowly before he squeezes them tight. He can't will himself to look at you because he's so fucking embarrassed and he doesn't want to talk about it, but you - your not dropping it. You can't.

"Steve, you fucking look at me right now."

He slowly opens his eyes, keeping half his face still submerged in the water to ensure he doesn't say anything else so utterly stupid or make you any more mad at him than you clearly are. He looks at you so intently, directly in your eyes almost without blinking and you don't think anyone has ever seen that far into you before in your life.

"Were you spending the day checking me out?" you say, softer than he expected.

He slides up, ready to explain and admit his transgressions "yeah I mean, listen, I really didn't think anyone noticed, especially you... "

" Oh my God, you really were shoving hot dogs in your face to try and throw me off, weren't you? "

" Holy shit, yeah I ate like 10. Fuck, it was that obvious? That's so embarrassing. I really need to get a grip. You just looked so good today and I was probably just distracted and I'm sorry - " eyes closed again in utter shame, completely word vomiting his explanation to you across the water.

But before he could apologize again or continue his ramble, you moved quickly across the hot tub, slotting yourself low, down at his level and between his wide spread legs. He opens his eyes when he feels you floating in his space, noses almost touching, chins just under the bubbling water, and you are eye to eye now. He hesitates, thrown off by your proximity, before smashing his lips into yours. It's rough and sloppy and the water is sloshing everywhere as he brings you in closer by the hips so your legs settle in on each side of his.

And he can't help it, he breaks away and starts in again on it "I'm sorry, I - oh my God" he gasps out as you cut him off by grinding your bikini clad core down hard on his dick.

"I swear to God Harrington, if you apologize one more time I'm climbing off right this second" he nods, enthusiastically, fervently as you reach down into the water, between both of your legs and give him a nice firm squeeze. His eyes roll back in his head and he gasps.

"I swear I'm not apologizing, but Jesus Christ, I don't deserve this. You - I don't deserve you but not even this little bit - Fuck!" You grab his shoulder tight, holding on to give your hips another firm roll back and forth and decide to get a little soft and card your free hand through his hair as he babbles.

"I know what you see when you look at me - ah, sh-shit" you roll again but he reaches up and grabs both sides of your face to get you to stop and look at him "I know who I was, but I know you like to make me remember it too, so I never thought… I know I'm better. Fuck, I know it, but I don't know why anyone who knows how I was back then even gives me the time of day. "

You reach up and grab the sides of his face, too. Challenging his unwavering eye contact with your own, you lean in and give him the softest kiss he could have ever imagined, raking your hands back through his hair and tilting his head back a bit to look up at you. From this angle he sees the stars behind you and questions what kind of penance he did these past few years to deserve this moment.

✨

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #hot tub steve #hot dog steve #steve harrington is an absolute idiot #Spotify

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getodrools · 27 days

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FIRST TIME OUUUUU IM JUMPING

now of course, choso is gonna propose to have his first time at your place! i mean, as much as he would LOVE to stain his sheets with your juices — n most likely not clean it for a few days but he figured a cute, popular girl like him would see his electric guitar and band posters and run instantly, poor sweets is so insecure :( and doesn't know you're into emo boys like that, which is why he practically won the lottery when you picked him as your new fuck buddy <3

anyways, from the moment you bent over in front of him to grab some condoms in your drawer and he gets a glimpse of your lace hello kitty panties, he's practically frothing at the mouth!!! he's practically drunk — and you haven't even started : ( you start undressing?? he's done for. girls, body, sex, his dirty fantasies coming true!! he was fighting the urge to pull out his cock and start fucking you right there but woah !! breathe, choso, for once have some decorum.

choso has no idea what he’s doing, but he knows he wants to touch you. sweet thing, he asks if he can touch you as if you were a goddess and as soon as you giggle a “of course, silly!” his hands are everywhere. ass, thighs, waist, tits, God is his hands and mouth latched on your tits!!! your little mews only edge him on further, he was sad when no milk came out :((((( maybe he’ll just have to marry you and get you pregnant so he can taste more of your juices! a loser can dream. but he’ll jerk off to that later, it’s time for the real thing.

little did you know choso came in his pants just from you making out with him. your glossy lips on his, the feeling of your clothed cunt grazing oh so gently over his massive buldge, he couldnt help it !! when you tease him for it, blood goes straight to his dick. he is harddd, and pretty boy can’t wait any longer so he begs to go inside and of course you comply.

i almsot forgot foreplay, he knew how big he was and he didn’t want to see his precious (hopefully) sweet girl in pain, so he eats you out. he’s never been two inches close to pussy before, so best believe hes lapping your juices with his tongue piercing, eating you out and overstimulating you to the max before you have to pull his hair and make him move away, which turns him on (hair pulling kinkkk!). his brain is hayware like the sound when you win the lottery, because he managed to make you squirt. cha-ching !! he’s so putting that in his diary.

he almost got carried away in the process, almost. don’t forget this is choso, he may be the one fucking but he’ll follow your orders like a dog if it means he’ll feel you cum on his dick. “c-choso, faster please!” and instantly, he mutters a “fuck— yes ma’am . . !” and before you know it, he’s basically bullying your pretty pussy :< rutting into you, the both of you chase your high and the click of realisation to pull out just barely hits him, his cum now all over your precious tits, your own seeping out of you beautifully, and he gets down to lick it up the globs. oh but of courseeee, he asks to take a picture of your cum covered tits, and mentally cheers when you say yes. that’s definitely being printed and placed on his wall !! hes thank you over and over again, and you cant help but want to go for another round at the praise :3

after it’s all done, while he’s changing, you ask him where the underwear he hastily removed from you has wandered off to ! where could it have possibly gone !? the boy pulls an innocent facade and shrugs an “hmm.. i-i’m not too sure”, as if it is currently stuffed in his jeans, but like the complete ditz you are, and you pay no mind > 0 < and thank God you dont!’ now pervy degenerate choso can jerk off at home to it almost every night :)

but there’s noooooo need, when you set fireworks off in his head when you kiss his cheek and propose to do this again.

hope you enjoyed this, that’s all i got ! nighty nighttt !

— pearl anon <3

okaaaaaaaay I GASPED— literally screaming directly at my phone, tongue out, shaking, frothing omfg ?? pls tell me ur a fanfic writer ‘cause this is so 🤯

also, i just loveeeved how u added emo choso having a tongue-piercing –> AGREED. and him saying, yes ma'am ??? dropped to my knees. i luv when guys say that ??? LMAO… ur rotting my brain pearl ! ! now im wondering if choso would make up things, like “having your pussy licked boosts brain activity.” after easily getting away with ur panties ?1?1?

this was so JUICY to read, THANK YOU. ♡

#📮 [ nonnie : pearl ]#💬 𝐓𝐗𝐓.#ohhhhhgosh #i love this #i hope ur dreams are just of this #so realistic too 🫂#♡♡♡#choso smut #ᝰ choso kamo!

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generic-sonic-fan · 9 months

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Team Dark and weighted blankets.

Rouge has a weighted blanket in her closet. It's old, ripped on one corner, its beads long since spilled out onto floorboards of houses that are no longer homes. She used to hide under it, before she went to the therapy to treat the anxiety that plagued her. Now it's a relic, a reminder of her progress. She doesn't need it anymore, she tells herself, but she can't bring herself to get rid of it.

(She takes bubble baths instead. The warmth and weight of the water are a decent replacement.)

But then a neighbor sets off fireworks and now Shadow is hyperventilating on the floor of the living room. She sprints to her closet. She tugs the blanket from beneath the shoe racks, drags it across the floor (because she forgot how heavy it is all bunched up like this,) and lays it over him.

He doesn't take it off for the next two days.

Rouge comes home with a new one and leaves it folded beside the couch. Shadow insists they don't need to have it out. For a moment she listens. She puts it in the pantry. The next day they wake up to find it's been thrown over the back of the couch.

"USE EVERY TOOL AT YOUR DISPOSAL TO REGULATE THE SENSORY NEEDS OF YOUR PRIMITIVE MEAT BRAIN." Omega replies when asked.

The next time it's used is after a long day. Shadow slides onto the couch. Rouge ducks into the bathroom and Omega stops by his room and when they return he's got the blanket spread over him. Rouge jumps on the cushion next to him and chides him for being a blanket hog before sliding under it as well. It's a tight fit, the edge of the blanket only covering half of her. Suddenly Omega leaves the apartment and they spend the next fifteen minutes worried sick until he returns with a new blanket hanging heavy from his grasp. He tosses it onto Rouge, knocking the wind out of her and earning laughter from Shadow.

It's around this time that the two of them finally convince Omega that, yes, he can sit on the couch. No, it's not a sign of weakness or a show of tenderness or anything else that might compromise the image of an Ultimate Robot to join one's friends on the couch cushions. The trusty couch creaks, but holds.

And Shadow comes home with another blanket, this one sized for a queen bed, which neither he nor Rouge own.

"I DO NOT REQUIRE SUCH A PATHETIC FABRIC DEVICE. I DO NOT GET COLD. ADDENUM: I AM INCAPABLE OF REGISTERING COMPLEX TEXTURES ANYWHERE BUT MY HANDS. THERE IS NO BENEFIT-"

Shadow throws the blanket over his legs and he stops. Unlike the flimsy, unweighted blankets that used to occupy this living room, Omega's cruder pressure sensors can register the force of this one. The constant yet gentle registration of pressure keeps bringing his awareness out of his own processor and back to the external world.

It is. . . grounding.

(He calls it "tolerable" but Rouge sees him take the blanket to his room at the end of the night.)

Soon there isn't a single normal blanket in the apartment anymore. Any old ones with sentimental value get stuffed in Rouge's closet, and have been retrieved only once since.

(After a long day of saving the world from disaster, Sonic decides to crash at their place. One problem: he hates weighted blankets. He's known this since he got Tails one. The pressure makes him feel trapped. Omega told him "TOUGH LUCK" but Rouge took pity and dug out the normal ones.)

Just. . . Team Dark and weighted blankets.

#sth #team dark #rouge the bat #shadow the hedgehog #e123 omega #e-123 omega

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weaveandwood · 3 days

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Midwinter in Waterdeep: Part Two

Gale/Tav | Angst & Pining | Read on AO3 | Read Part One | 1K words

Summary:

After the defeat of the Netherbrain, Gale Dekarios was a wizard of intentionally lesser renown, a respected professor at Blackstaff Academy, and engaged to the love of his life. His life was enchanted until he came home to an empty tower, and he has been seeing ghosts ever since.

He saw her ghost everywhere. She haunted him the first day when he got home from teaching. The house was too quiet, and as he set his bag down in the entryway, he saw the ring. He saw the note. I’m sorry. I can’t do this.

AN: There will be a Part 3 to conclude this and it will be out later this weekend. Thank you all so much for your support on what was supposed to be a one-shot that has taken over my brain completely.

He saw her ghost everywhere.

She haunted him the first day when he got home from teaching. The house was too quiet, and as he set his bag down in the entryway, he saw the ring. He saw the note. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. He knew her leaving was inevitable the more their conversations became stilted, the more they floated in each other's orbits, the more foreign her touch became. But the tower still smelled like her, still felt like her presence was just around the corner. Still felt like they could have had a chance to fix things. He heard her in his head all night long as he wept in his study.

It’s not real. She’s not here.

She haunted him on his walk back from visiting his mother two weeks later, the first time he left his house. He had tried to lay low after she left him, but her name followed him like a poltergeist from the mouths of those he passed on the street, whispering to their friends about who he was, who she was. Wondering how it ended.

It's not real. She’s not here.

She haunted him when he was in the market four months after she left. He didn’t want to be there. Everything reminded him of her - the cart they would visit once a tenday to buy her favorite sweet rolls, the jewelry store he visited in secret to get her silver ring that was still on the entry table gathering dust. He saw a flash of her hair color and froze. When time regained its ability to move forward he strained his neck, pushing through the crowd searching for her, unable to breathe. Could it be her? Where had she been all these weeks? Was she okay? Had she moved on with someone else who was less tied down by routine? Was she even still alive?

It wasn’t her, of course. He didn’t go to the market again after that. He still hasn’t.

It’s not real. She’s not here.

Seasons passed. Festivals, new apprentices, weekly dinners with colleagues - life fell into a rhythm that helped him move forward. He saw her ghost less and less. It had been almost 6 months since the last haunting. He had finally tucked the silver ring into a drawer two tendays ago, an attempt to bury the what ifs and if onlys and begin to exorcize her from his memory at last. Midwinter in Waterdeep was upon him, and he was eager to engage in festivities that evening with colleagues, now friends. A few cups of wine and he felt like the old Gale, showing off a little by using his well-honed magic to create fireworks to fill the room with light and color.

As the illusion sparked and fizzled out to the delight and applause of the other partygoers, a familiar wisp settled itself in the peripheries of his mind. She always loved his illusions, from their first night together with the aurora and the sparkling stars to the smaller ones he created for her everyday in the beginning. If he had kept trying to make her happy, would she have left? If he had noticed her pulling away as he settled into the routine of his life, could he have brought her closer instead of making her feel like her only option was to run?

He set his cup down, the wine steering him toward paths his brain wasn’t ready to go back down yet, preferring to stay focused on the revelry at hand. The snow flurries caught his eye through the large picture window in the front room. He had always loved the snow and moved to the window to watch it in contemplative silence.

He froze, his eyes widened, breath caught in his throat.

Her ghost. Haunting him even here, even now, after all this time. Her hair, her eyes, everything just as he remembered from the morning she left him, standing across the street looking into the window he was currently occupying. Looking at him. He saw the ghost’s eyes widen, saw her quickly turn to walk away, to escape discovery. He wanted to hesitate. He wanted to accept it was just another vision brought on by too many cups of wine, another falsehood of his imagination...but one tiny spark of hope pulled at his mind.

The ghost had never reacted to him like that before.

He didn’t remember moving. He didn’t remember running out of the door, the rest of the partygoers gasping as the usually reserved Gale Dekarios knocked over a chair and pushed people out of his way. He didn’t remember the bite of the cold air. He didn’t remember yelling “Stop!” as the ghost moved quickly away, trying to toy with him, as always. He didn’t remember running down the street to catch up to the ghost, preparing himself for it to disappear as usual. He didn’t remember the desperation on his face or in his voice as he reached for her.

He remembered grabbing on to the ghost’s hand, feeling it solid in his. His heart pounded.

“Wait. Please,” he said, panting. The ghost turned around, but it wasn’t a ghost at all.

She was real. She was here.

“Gale,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.

“You’re real. You’re here,” he whispered back, wrapping her in his arms, committing to memory how she felt as he held her tightly for the first time in over a year. It was only then he realized that her absence had permeated every facet of his being and he felt like he could finally breathe again. His lips crashed against hers, time standing still for the two of them as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

She took a step back, breaking their contact, looking down at the ground.

He knew. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

“Tomorrow,” she nodded, a tear falling down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

He placed his hands on both sides of her face, brushing away her sadness before kissing her deeply one more time.

Real. Here.

“Then let me have tonight.”

#bg3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #bg3 fanfiction #gale fanfic #gale x tav #gale x f!tav #gale x auroria #my writing #gale of waterdeep #midwinter in waterdeep #baldur’s gate 3

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matchingbatbites · 11 months

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fireworks | 1.4k

@steddie-week Day 3: First Kiss Steddie first meeting/kiss with some minor Buckingham. Fun fact: this was a Valentine's ficlet that I forgot to post. :) Enjoy.

For someone who claims to be Steve’s wingman, Robin is doing a great fucking job of keeping guys away from him. The guy Steve has been chatting with for the last few minutes gives him a strained smile before slipping off, and Steve turns to look at Robin, who has basically plastered herself to his side.

“Robin, what the fuck? That’s like the third guy you’ve run off!”

“I know, I know, but he wasn’t right for you! Waaay too douchey and uptight.”

Steve rolls his eyes and takes a sip from his drink. “I’m after a kiss, not a boyfriend, Robbie. Maybe a blowjob in the back if I’m lucky. I’m not exactly looking for a sparkling personality here.”

“I know, but-” She pauses, knocks back the rest of her own drink before turning to face the dance floor. “I just don’t want you to regret your first guy-kiss. I’m not saying it has to be like, fireworks and shit, but you should enjoy it.”

“Honestly, at this point I think I’d rather just get it over with, if it will get you to chill out a little.”

“I’m just trying to help, Steve!” Robin says, and Steve rolls his eyes. She opens her mouth to say something else but stops when a girl walks up to them, her blonde ponytail swishing gently behind her, and Steve bites back a smile when she steps into Robin’s space.

“Hi there,” she says, and Robin’s face instantly flushes with color. “Oh, uh, hi.”

“I’m Chrissy, and you’re like, super pretty,” the girl, Chrissy says, and Steve can practically see the gears in Robin’s brain grinding to a halt as she bats her eyelashes at his best friend. He bites into his lip as Chrissy reaches up and slips a finger under one of Robin’s suspender straps, giving it a gentle tug. “Do you maybe wanna dance with me?”

Robin’s eyes snap to Steve and he gives her an encouraging thumbs up, and after a quick, eager nod, Chrissy is giggling and pulling her off to the dance floor. Steve chuckles and shakes his head before he downs the rest of his drink. He sets the empty glass on the bar top just as he feels someone moving in next to him.

“Your friend is awfully protective of you, isn’t she? I’m not surprised, considering how gorgeous you are.”

Steve turns to face the new voice, and his stomach flips. The guy is stunning, with a riot of curls and brown eyes that look almost black in the dim lighting. He’s wearing a leather jacket over some band t-shirt, paired with ripped black jeans and scuffed black boots. Steve is definitely interested, and he leans in a little as he smiles.

“Mm, she’s supposed to be my wingman, but she’s being a picky little shit.”

The guy grins and Steve’s blood rushes at the bit of silver that flashes behind white teeth. “Yeah, I noticed. I had to get my friend to distract her so she wouldn’t be able to run me off too.”

Steve can’t stop the laugh that escapes him as he beams at the guy. “Chrissy was your idea? Holy fuck, thank you for that. I love Robin, but she’s kind of been suuuuper extra tonight.”

“Well, I’m glad I could give you a break. To be honest, though, Chrissy was already kind of eyeing her before I asked her to step in.” He glances out to the dance floor and Steve follows his gaze, sees Chrissy with her arms wrapped around Robin’s neck, the two pressed close as they dance together.

“Chrissy is gonna eat her alive," Steve says, and the guys laughs.

"Too fucking true," he replies, and turns back to Steve. He holds out a hand. "I'm Eddie, by the way."

Steve takes Eddie’s hand and glances down, takes in chunky rings and nice fingers that have heat swirling in his stomach. "Steve."

Eddie’s thumb swipes over Steve’s knuckles, showing no sign of releasing his hand as he asks "Well, Steve, can I ask what you're looking for on this fine evening?"

Steve hums in consideration before saying "I'll tell you, but you can't make fun of me, okay?" and Eddie makes an 'x' over his heart in a silent promise.

"So, I'm bi, but I just figured it out recently. I've never kissed a guy before, and Robin brought me out here to hopefully get me at least that much, but as you've seen, she's been pretty picky about it. I’m honestly just ready to get it over with at this point."

Eddie’s eyes go hungry and he tugs on Steve’s hand a bit, pulling them even closer together. “Well, if you’re interested, I’d be more than happy to help you accomplish that, baby.”

Steve feels a bit weak in the knees as he nods, and Eddie gives him a lopsided grin before he pulls Steve away from the bar, back into a little hallway that leads to the back door.

The lights are even more dim back here, but the glow from the exit sign feels bright as it reflects off Eddie’s rings, as it bathes the apples of his cheeks in red. It feels like they’re in their own little world now that they’re away from the crowd, and Steve is grateful for the little bit of privacy and quiet.

Hands move to hold Steve’s waist and Eddie guides him where he wants him, moving Steve so his back is pressed against the wall, and he finds that he definitely doesn’t mind Eddie taking the lead like this. Eddie leans in close and Steve can’t resist sliding his hands up into that gorgeous hair, gets briefly distracted when he uncovers Eddie’s ears and sees the jewelry littering them.

“See something pretty, sweetheart?” he asks, amused, and hazel eyes snap back to chocolate brown.

“I like your jewelry.”

“Well, thank you.” Eddie smiles and his grip tightens. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

Steve nods, says “Please, Eddie,” and the man is closing the gap, leaning in until their mouths are slotted together and Steve melts. Eddie tastes like tequila and lime, and he kisses Steve like he means it, like Steve is something he’s been waiting for. It’s addicting, especially when Eddie’s tongue finds its way into Steve’s mouth and he gets to lick the unforgiving metal of the piercing that runs through it.

Everything feels sparkly and explosive in the best way possible - Robin said something about not needing fireworks, but Steve thinks he's found them anyway, thinks Eddie might feel them too.

Steve quickly loses track of time as Eddie kisses him within an inch of his life. He wasn’t prepared for this, for Eddie, but he knows now that he’s had a taste, it’s going to be hard to just walk away from the other man.

It’s far too soon when Eddie pulls back, pressing a final peck to Steve’s mouth.

“How’s that, sweetheart?” he asks softly, and Steve gives him a dopey grin as he twirls one of those curls around his finger.

“Pretty good, but I think you should do it again, juuust so I can be sure.”

Eddie chuckles and kisses him again, chaste and far too brief, before muttering against his lips. “Why don’t we get out of here? I’ll kiss you as many times as you need, all night if I have to.”

With a grin and a nod, they head back out into the main area. They split up briefly, Steve making his way over to Robin who is still wrapped around Chrissy, and he taps her on the shoulder. When she turns to face him he jabs his thumb towards the door.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that I’m heading out.”

Her face drops and she grabs his arm. “But we haven’t gotten you a kiss yet! I’m sure we can find someone to-”

“Robs, you already missed it.”

“What?!”

Steve rolls his eyes and grabs her before pointing at Eddie who is currently paying his tab at the bar. He hears Chrissy laugh and he turns to give her a big smile and a smacking kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for your help distracting Robin, Chrissy.”

“No problem. You two have fun,” she says with a giggle and a wink, and Steve looks at Robin.

“You should keep this one,” he says, only giving her a second to sputter in indignation before he’s walking off. He throws a “Don’t wait up for me!” over his shoulder, and grins as he heads back to where Eddie is waiting, eager to taste the fireworks again.

#steddieweek2023 #day 3 #i feel like the ending is a little weak but it's whatever at this point #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #joey writes #ficlet

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sleepingbeautysammy · 8 months

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a list in no particular order of wincest/spn fics that i want to crawl inside and never leave, that really pinpoint what i like abt samdean or spn etc etc just like. hits the nail on the head for me:

(btw if you have any fics that are kind of like these or u think i would like please let me see please)

dead unfinished selves by hathfrozen

i love cannibalism and horror and codependency and this hits all the marks for me!! so well written too.

credence by road_rhythm

sleeping beauty references 😍 somnophilia 😍 i loveeee this one sm.

easy access by edwardina

i love sam in skirts and i love breeding what can i say?

good girl by blindswandive

this literally makes me short circuit so hard i love girlsam

the very first stone by road_rhythm

every single chapter with the different povs stunned me. everything about this is perfect and sucks you right into their world. i cannot stress it enough i LOVE this fic.

splinters by morgan

COWBOY SOUTHERN GOTHIC AU PREACHER JOHN FIRE STARTER SAM!!! god this fic is beautiful and stunning amazing i love it

distance swimmer by lichenthrope

god. f/f samdean does smth to me dean in this is sooo hot

the palm oasis by fictionallemons

the world building in this is immaculate, the setting and mood sucks you in so deep i feel like i’m there with them. one of my fave eras too.

wolfpack by tabaqui

okay this whole series really does it for me cause i love scary winchesters. there is a part with a mary prayer card in the second part that i cannot get out of my mind ever.

they then ate the sailors by coyotesuspect

case fic that rattles my brain it’s so well rounded and thought out. i adore the apartment, the water, everything.

tape by franceshouseman

the voyeuristic quality and dirty talk in this fic is incredibly hot, i think about it a lot.

odysseus, american by coyotesuspect

i love love loveeee classical references in fics, and the idea of dean listening to the odyssey delights me to no end. this fic brought a tear to my eye. love you dean

show me again, shame takes hold by objectlesson

BUTCH DEAN. BUTCH DEAN. BUTCH DEAN. she makes me melt.

squint into the sun | glare into the gloaming by dyed_red

god this one is good. i love the slow burn i love sam’s inability to be ashamed. loved the john pov. love a good john finds out fic please read this one

brother only wants by hathfrozen

god this slow burn is so so delicious it really pays off and all their little moments it’s like it really has all the aspects of their obsession w each other and their dynamic like the sex isn’t even the main point (tho when it finally happens 😍 fucking fireworks) so good

the blood in your mouth by hathfrozen

dean has cannibalistic thoughts about sam and they fuck nasty about it. i s2g idgaf i WILL rec individual fics by the same author if i see so fit.

an act of faith against the night by hathfrozen

this one is hot and heartbreaking at the same time. love it when sammy cries. s3, sam is upset about deans deal and they fuck nasty about it.

#supernatural #samdean #fic rec #wincest #save

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ms-scarletwings · 6 months

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Endearing through the Alien Lens: A Clue About the Primitive Irken?

I love literary xenobiology. I love it a whole lot, in fact. There’s a paradoxical line I dance across, between criticizing intelligent fictional aliens for their likeness to our species, and criticizing them for their unlikeness. It’s a pretentious and laughable dance between “Come on, the sky’s the limit, there’s no real reason for a bucket of different extraterrestrial races to just all be more flavors of quirky humanoids! Boring, show me something actually alien!!” and the yearn for the use of alien races as a funhouse mirror of mankind’s own evolution. I think the way Irkens nonchalantly dwell somewhere on that subjective tightrope is a good part of why I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.

They are inspired and yet creatively original. They are truly alien, and yet, they can still play foil to the bottomlessly decadent humanity that Vasquez’s Earth has set the stage for.

Before, in the very first brain dump I let loose about them, I noted a few of their parallels to the worst in Homo sapiens and the insects they resemble. This time, something is chewing on me that i haven’t seen another put into perspective. A something that seems contradictory to our collective view of the heartless, sexless, atomized conquerors that all of the cosmos will fear:

They… have parental instincts.

I didn’t necessarily say drives or wants; however, they undeniably havewhat seems to be an actual, instinctual “cuteness response”. Like us, like social pack animals which invest a great deal of resources and time into their young. Given that the closest thing that 100% of smeets born on the home world get to call a parental figure is a literal cold, unfeeling, automated machine, this seems kind of weird, doesn’t it? They’re not even born like mammals or nested like birds, they’re mass produced, like hived wasps or ants, miles beneath their actual society and out of the business of the adults. So, what the heck with them being written to be humanized with this baseless, arbitrary trait?

But, ah ah ah, nitpicker Scarlet, it’s not baseless. It’s only ✨vestigial✨

Y’all could probably make a good guess to what the cuteness response is and why it exists in Homo sapiens, but to sum up- it’s the phenomenon of when we see something we find “cute” and it makes us react to it in a protective, nurturing fashion- or also want to bite/squeeze things, weirdly, if it’s just too damn cute. Well, what do humans find cute? Things that resemble human infants, basically. It’s a biological reflex that makes us want to defend and provide care for our kind’s absurdly dependent and slow-developing young, rather than abandon them in the shrubbery like they’re just screamy, food-leeching paperweights.

“Pff, really? Well I must be special cause I don’t even LIKE babies. I think babies are icky gross, not cute! So, genetic instinct my ass!”

I hear you, sure, but what about… harp seals? Or koalas, or pandas and puppies and fawns and kittens? Or funny little cartoon blorbos? At bare minimum you’d have to be an alien yourself to feel nothing looking at photos of young hedgehogs

See, the fact that a lot of us may often find baby animals a great amount more endearing than even humans’ is not even in conflict with this understanding of cuteness.

The concept of the “baby schema” was formally proposed in 1943 by Konrad Lorenz, an Austrian ethologist. Fun fact is he was also the same researcher who originally observed and described imprinting behaviors, as seen in newly hatched waterfowl. Point is that his “Kindchenschema” idea grouped together a handful of infantile traits that make fireworks go off in the parts of your brain that wants to keep things alive and baby-talk to them. Included on the list were features like proportionally large heads, big eyes, round faces, short noses, etc. despite the name, the baby schema’s effect is something applied not to just actual babies, but children generally, and even in our reactions to non-human animals.

It’s the hypothesis behind both why we’ve jacked up the skulls of so many small dog breeds in the name of aesthetics and why we generally find the portraits on the left side of this image more appealing to look at than the ones on the right.

The consistency of these features across many species may also give some hint that they experience a similar phenonemon, especially given that these are traits shared among bird or mammalian offspring which require significant attention and protection to survive. And, it may also explain why this image likewise gives me a huge dose of that sweet, sweet response.

Awww, look at that lil’ mans! Look at his teeny noodle arms!! I just wanna pinch him like a marshmallow!

YOU are not immune to cuteness psychology, and neither are the proud Irken warriors. I’m going to cite Zim’s proclivity to what I can only describe as paternal bonding as a demonstration of this response, but before you go reminding me about his pak defects, it’s far from the only evidence that this is a natural Irken trait.

Check out little Timmy (importantly, the surrounding response to him), a hilariously out of place youngster who appeared briefly in the trial transcript for the sole purpose of a dark gag and to get us some lore revealed.

Take further note of the complimentary nature of smeets themselves.

Suddenly finding themselves alive, fresh Irken babies too, like the hatched gosling, begin to immediately seek an emotional attachment with the first animate thing they see. While mobile and fast learners, smeets are far from being able to truly fend for themselves. They’re tiny and naive and they need lots of mental enrichment/teaching. They also play and form something akin to friendships, much like human children. In the bygone era before Irkens were so reliant on Paks and all of the advanced technology of the modern empire, smeets would have been exceedingly vulnerable. All signs point to a phase in Irk’s natural history where they were once nurtured after by adults of their own kind, and commonly bonded with their caretakers. This could mean compact family units, or maybe even a communal raising situation, akin to penguin crèches (Personally I like to headcanon that the tallests/queens were traditionally the only breeding members of the population but that’s neither here or now). Either sense, the evolutionary remnants of a parental creature are still around.

Taking all that to note, instead of perceiving Zim as the bizarre outlier to the Irken condition when it comes to having this soft spot, I instead see him as an opportunity to see natural behaviors in action without the suppression of his militarized society and its distractions. Even someone as warped and selfish as he can be is still very, very full of love to give that he doesn’t even understand enough language to describe. He pretty clearly shows he has no cultural understanding or reference of cuteness, and still, he’s not so different in this “weakness” than the very humans he manipulated into fawning over Ultra Peepi. It just took an example his own sensibilities could relate to instead of an unfamiliar, repulsive alien rodent.

And when he’s given the rare circumstance to show that potential, well-

*(With the rough shape/size down, no nose, and huge, bug-like eyes, Li’l Meat man may actually be a great approximation of the key “smeet schema” features. More importantly, it was made to specifically resemble Zim himself)

- I feel that’s downright adorable.

#invader zim #iz #iz headcanons #iz theory #irkens #iz comics #iz analysis #Li’l meat man #long post #scarlet talks about things #baby schema

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ideas-4-stories · 2 months

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Inspired by the "buggy gets stabbed with a seastone knife but defeats the assassin" anon and subsequent post.

Buggy really would have had SO MANY SCARS. He's immune to cuts and chops and slices. Not blunt force trauma, burns, bullets, whips, etc. Also he was a pirate apprentice on GOL D. ROGER'S SHIP!! He ate that devil fruit young, sure, but he was still a pirate before then and I highly doubt that that, nor whatever his early life was, would lead to pristine, unblemished skin.

Also - freckles. Give Buggy Freckles 2024.

Anyway, yeah, Buggy would have a MOSAIC of scars and tattoos - many of which have meanings the likes of which are lost to most. Also projection, but Buggy has a medusa tattoo somewhere on his person. Yes the one who did the tattoo for him was on the crew, and still is. Yes they are also the defacto therapist on the island. It's good pay and they get to add Names to the I'll Kill Them One Day list ((it's a whole book. With five volumes. It's on going.))

I have... an angry idea. For Buggy shrugging off seastone wounds and using his own injury as an opening. Roger would have wanted the boys STRONG but happy and safe. He saw so much of himself in Shanks that the attention was perceived as preferential treatment. Shanks was the heavy hitter with potential and skill and charisma -

Buggy was the supporting cast.

Rayleigh, unable to help Roger through the illness, through so many things, projected that onto Buggy ((Very Pearl + Connie, if you know Steven Universe, before Steven stepped in to set that record straight)). Ray would make sure Buggy was strong enough for Shanks. He put that kid through the WRINGER, and it was arguably hell. Buggy came out stronger but also far more terrified - so much so that he struggled to even utilize that strength in any true way. Rayleigh declared it a failure. Apologized to Buggy for 'failing to make him good enough'.

This did a number on him.

One thing that lasted was his frankly unsettling tolerance to water and seastone. He still works on it, and he never quite dropped it. He always has at least one seastone earring in because it's both smth he HAS to do and also it slows down his brain a little, dulling the edge of his normal panic. Like a crystal girlie but far more literal.

This isn't his first rodeo with seastone weapons either - he may have been in the East, but he was still a decently renowned criminal with a hefty bounty. He's an old hand at this!

Still hurts like a bitch though.

He'd absolutely make the dumbest puns too. "Don't worry, I'm in STABle condition! :oD"

"You need stitches, you utter buffoon."

"That wasn't very- hnn- knife of you."

"Please pass out from bloodloss."

"You cut me so deep, Hawkyyy- OW?!"

"Seas save me"

Crocodile is fighting between yelling louder, committing three felonies, laughing, and shutting the clown up. Be it by choking him or kissing him is up for debate. The doctor, used to Buggy's antics, just hands him a fidget toy. "Don't touch the wound, my supplies or try to move yet. Solve the rubix cube before you even consider getting up."

"Boring-"

"I'll tell the kitchen to make hotdogs if you do."

Buggy is now very focused on the pretty color cube.

Oh, referring to this post gotcha!

Yeah, Buggy totally would because he’s a chemist, working with all those bombs and the guy looks like he would trip sometimes while working. Buggy has to have burn scars (I’m pretty sure somewhere, someone said that Buggy has star-shaped, firework burns on his hands. Part of the reason he hides his hands away, I like that idea even that means Buggy got hurt) Now it an idea that I got when I was half-asleep, that I read in the morning with confusion… a cannonball… I don’t why my sleepy brain decided that, but now thinking about it would have to be a ricochet cannonball that he survived from (to be honest Buggy seems like a person who would survive a cannonball to the head, like some Monkey family we know) Then with probably the logical route of bullets, whips, etc… are from being hunted by marines and enemies of the Roger Pirates before he somehow blends into the background and people forgot about him.

I would say Buggy would have eaten his devil fruit around nine years old, for the AU I’m trying to writ… Also freckles… HELL FUCK YEAH!!! I love that idea; it would be so cute on him!!! Scattered all around his body, totally seen him connecting them into shapes and patterns when he’s bored and has nothing else to do.

Definably, he’s a pirate, of course he has many scars, and Buggy having at least 10 tattoos ranging from large too small. I don’t think Buggy ever has sat someone down to explain them, or maybe he has and stopped because people not understanding. Ooooooo, I look up what the Medusa tattoo means, I like to think it’s for survival and strength. With my idea for two long tattoos, I think they would be a mixture of different flowers with hidden things between them - like hidden treasure to find, those tattoos have meanings as well as some funny ones around his body as well. Because it’s Buggy, of course, he will at least have one fucking funny one.

I love an idea their defacto therapist, I think I’ve already have a OC for the job and yes, love the book called I'll Kill Them One Day list. Love that it has five volumes, you know some of those names are crossed off and it continues to grow.

This is an angry idea indeed, poor Buggy… as we see that Buggy is not supporting cast, with his followers (they are like cult followers in a way) and his crew. Basically pushed to the side for Shanks to be the one in the spotlight as the “leader” of the two (I definitely doubt that Shanks didn’t look up to Buggy during sometimes when they were cabin boys)

Oh fuck, no wonder why Buggy hasn’t talk to Rayleigh and makes my idea of them meeting as cold and awkward. Like Rayleigh would greet with nicknames from long ago, expecting the same as what he remembered last of Buggy, only to have Buggy to greet him coldy. Either, with Dark King Rayeleigh or Slivers Rayleigh instead of nicknames that he use to call Rayleigh.

Why…why projected his problems onto Buggy! Like of course that did a number on Buggy, ecspeaily after Ray apologized to Buggy for ‘failing to make him good enough’... You can’t say that to a fucking child, you know they will think it’s all their fault! I mean look at Buggy, he already has enough problems with his self-esteem, he doesn’t need anymore!!!

Poor Buggy, going thtough hell because Rayleigh wants him strong like him to keep Shanks safe because he’s being as stupid as Roger. It makes sense that Buggy can’t use his strength because of being afraid and worrying so much (Buggy is definitely a worry-wort)

I agree with Buggy has an high tolerance to water and seastone, I mean Buggy seemed to of been a really good swimmer from how angry he is from Shanks scaring him and making him swallow the Bara Bara fruit (if not, then it’s a headcanon for me that he’s a really good swimmer before he swallowed the devil fruit) You think he would just stop going into the water? I mean I can see Buggy finding those small pools of water on a beach… I forgot what they are called, anyway you think he wouldn’t go in them to feel the sea? I think Buggy would.

Oooooo a seastone earring or some other type of seastone jewelry on his body. That’s interesting, I’ve never thought about it. The seastone helps him corrals his chop chop powers from doing all the time as well. Calming his brain, dulling the edge of his normal panic is a clever way, bro probably found how much seastone he needs to do so. From this post, Buggy has to have some edibles mixed into brownies or some other type of pastry (it’s now a headcanon for me) Dude has to have some drugs to calm down with the stress that Crocodile and Mihawk have put him through.

Yeah, it's definitely not Buggy’s first rodeo with seastone weapons, I can see Buggy being hunted by people during the time after Roger was killed and I see that’s the time where most of his seastone wounds came from. I wonder now if Buggy hordes the seastone weapons that people attacked him with?… I’ve decided yes, Buggy would keep them.

I stand for Buggy making the dumbest and baddest puns when he is hurt, especially when he gets attacked by seastone weapons. It takes his mind off of the pain they give him (Also the banter between Buggy and Mihawk you made is chefs’ kiss)

Both Crocodile and Mihawk just being done with Buggy and quite disturbed by how Buggy handles his pain. Mihawk wants him to shut up and sit still, while Crocodile is fighting between screaming, committing felonies (like he hasn’t committed felonies more than enough), laughing his ass off, then wanting to either choke Buggy or kiss him to shut the clown up. That’s so them, and Buggy is getting a little shit like always.

This doctor is just like the doctor OC; Kuo-Lee, I’ve created to be the Buggy Pirates medic. Really, being done with what Buggy does and uses things to keep him still. This is so right, handing him a fidget toy, saying that if he is good than he’ll tell the kitchens to give their captain is favorite food. Yeah, that will make Buggy sit as still as he can, to be honest, Buggy isn’t one to sit still.

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minimoxha · 10 months

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Tangled

Summary: After his wife and daughter died he thought he lost everything. However, you for some reason, you’d didn’t disappear. So, Miguel locked you up. He had to find some way to protect you so you couldn’t be taken from him like Gabriella. What better way to do that then keep you in his dimension where he could get to you in case of anything.

Warnings: Low key bad parenting, Mother knows best lyrics, Cussing if you squint. Maybe bad Spanish, things I grew up listening to.

W/C:

A/n This might be bad, it’s been a long time since i��ve written fanfic so bare with me! If you want a part two or three because i’ll prolly make a part too just let me know. And please give me some good Miguel and hobie fanfics down below!

Part two to this is posted: here

series masterlist is here

Even without a spider sense, Miguel could tell that something was up. The way she kept looking at him as she ate her breakfast, the way she kept shifting in her seat on the bar of their house that was really more of a castle that he forced her in years ago; and the way she was scarfing down her food so fast that it didn't even look like she had swallowed. Miguel liked to think that he knew his daughter pretty well, when her sister and mother died he became the only person she spoke to on a daily basis. However, who she spoke to wasn’t by choice. No, it was by force.

It was because her dad had locked her up in their house in order to ‘protect’ her from the dangers that could possibly be outside. Maybe an anomaly or some silly boy wanting to give you more but heartbreak. Miguel was all about protecting his one and only. You weren't bored in the house until now, your 18th birthday had finally been the day that cleaning, art, knitting, sewing and any of the other hobbies your dad had brought home for you to try became too tiring for your newly adult brain. You wanted to see the fireworks that unknowingly to you, Miguel set off every year in celebration for you. You wanted to meet actual people instead of being cooped up in the same boring house (Even if it was Huge!) every single day. It never actually rang to Miguel that one day, protecting you meant letting you out of his grasp at least once. Which is also why this time; he couldn't pinpoint what exactly was wrong with his daughter this time around.

“Que paso?” Miguel asked, food still in his mouth and turning to his daughter who had the same look on her face.

“It’s my birthday dad” His daughter, Y/n answered. She still had the smile on her face, when has Miguel ever said no to his daughter? Every single day she’d ask “when can I go out?” He’d always tell her someday and her eighteenth birthday had to be the day, Right? “I want to see the fireworks as my birthday present.”

Miguel’s eyes looked at her empty, as if there were no thoughts whatsoever behind his eyes. Except, all he could think about was holding Gabriella and you in his arms when she completely glitched and disappeared. The world risks something that would take his baby, his daughter, the thing that he fights for every single time he defeats an anomaly.

“You can see them from the window, you see them every year mami. Why is it so special this year?” (I see a lot of people using mami sexually but my dad and aunts called me and my sister mami as a nickname so that's what it’ll be!)

“I want to see them up close, outside dad. I’m tired of staying here all day every day. I need sun” She spoke, making Mig’s fist clench harder and harder on his fork, it was just about breaking now, minutes from that if he kept it up. “Please dad, I’m old enough to take care of myself. I’m eighteen! I can’t stay here forever with you. I want to go and have a life, meet people, make memo-”

“You speak as if you know so much about making a life. Mija, you know how dangerous it is out there. You are too naive, gullible, and ditzy to think that you will be safe with people waiting to mug you the moment you step foot from this house. I’m saying this because I love you. The final answer is no.” Miguel growled before finally snapping his fork in half and letting a sigh out. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair before taking the two clean bowls to the kitchen leaving his daughter to sit– dreams broken and in silence. Did he really completely turn her down? Suddenly, the girl felt her face heat up and her eyes develop that certain wetness that always came around on her birthday, never this early though. What coule she do now? What would happen now? Would she be stuck here forever without any way to get outside?

The familiar voice of her father woke her out of her thoughts. He came over, Putting an arm around his daughter as she leaned into his touch, sniffling. “Don’t cry, Mija. This is for the best so nothing will happen to you.” She nodded into his arms, not convinced. Miguel sighed and grabbed her head with his hand, turning the girl to face him. He could see the sadness that lied on his daughters face. However, he’d rather hurt her feelings then have her be hurt by anyone else. Why would she want to go out there when he could give her anything she ever wanted, easily. “Mija, I’m saying this because I love you. I want to protect you, tú entiendes.” The girl nodded and her dad kissed her forehead before leaving the house without even so much as a bye to his daughter. .

She didn’t understand. Why was it that every teen that she saw on the tv and her computer were able to go live outside their houses and have fun. Make memories like parties and Malls and games? Why was the world so dangerous for her but not for everyone else? The girl got up and walked to the kitchen where Miguel left his and her dirty dishes in the sink. She had to clean again, even on a day as special as her birthday. It was almost like, he didn’t even care. The girl turned on music, a group called Exon, the group was home to her dimension and happened to be dropping by for a concert in Nueva York. She was contemplating asking to go but Miguels answer would probably be the same as always. A no. Y/n felt those familiar tears well up in her eye before the sound of her window opening sprung her away from the music. Whoever was trying to break in, was really loud with it. Quickly, she grabbed whatever was closest to her- A frying pan and continued to the Dining room hesitantly.

Millions of thoughts were racing through the girls head. Who was breaking in? How did they get past the security system even she couldn’t break? Was what miguel said true? Were people really waiting on you in order to kill or rob you? Her thoughts disappeared when she stood in the entryway , seeing nothing but an empty dining room. She stood hands on her hips, questioning if maybe what she heard was apart of the song and the alarm system blaring was just an accident.

“‘Ello love, Have you seen this big man wearing a red and black spandex suit? He looks like a clown almost.” With a gasp, The girl turned to face another spider-man, just like your father. But this one was different, he was wearing clothes along with the suit. The suit even had cool little spikes on his head. She couldn’t stop herself from staring at him in awe, her eyes only widened when the man took his mask off. He was brown skin with Wiks Littering his head. She could tell that he grew his hair out for a while to achieve as much hair he had. Piercings littered his face, adding to the rocker touch that the man already gave. She dropped the pan to the floor and scrambles to get her thoughts together. So he was another spider-man, looking for her father. A cute spider-man at that.

Of course, she knew about Hq and the whole dimension things but usually people contacted him through his watch and not his phone. So how was he here and not through the hologram? It’d been ages since she’s seen another person other than her dad, it almost didn’t feel real or right to be here, looking at someone. “My names Y/n. My dad- My dad’s not here right now actually he just left.” She said, looking everywhere but in the eyes of the spiky spider-man. “What’s your name? You’re a spider-man just like him?”

The man gave a nod before walking through the house and taking a closer look. The girl followed right behind him watching him with wide eyes as he checked out the house. The two ended up right in the kitchen. “I’m sorry- who are you? Why are you roming my house like you know it?” She Was now defensive, arms crossed and shifted on one leg. If men had anything it was the audacity to roam her house without an intoxication at least.

“Right. Names Hobbie Brown.”

Thanks for reading! I hope y’all enjoyed that, it’s been a long time since i’ve written so i’ll try to produce better things next time! Until then,

#fanfic #xreader #minimoxha #black!reader #anime #hobie brown x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv memes #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #hobie brown #tangeled #astv fic #astv x reader #astv #astv hobie #astv miguel #Tangeled au

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