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#i died five times while drawing this i think
ghostember · 2 years
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we’re more ghosts than people
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enter-the-bogman · 1 year
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Reading through the Tortall books in publication order is funny because you start with Alanna “the village healing woman taught me all she knew” going off to become a knight, and end with Numair “world’s most powerful mage” as young Arram Draper first learning magic at the Carthaki university. Because of the 40 intervening years and five(?) different series further developing the Tortall universe, the magic system is now SO much more complex.  Arram is learning an elementally-based, heavily theory-dependent form of magic where conceptual power is applied to physical objects or energy constructs. His teachers make him develop skills in non-magical areas like juggling, jewelry making, and gardening so eventually they can safely guide him through complicated applications of magic. In comparison, Alanna complains that Duke Roger is spending too much time on theory in order to prevent her and her peers from learning “actual magic” and becoming his rivals. And then she throws purple light at things until they explode or she passes out! We also learn from Arram’s misadventures that most of “magic” is creating methods of applying, storing, and accessing power so the user doesn’t drain their own life force and pass out or die. Alanna uses NONE of these techniques; instead, she pulls her magic directly out of her own life force, thinks about what she wants it to do, and hopes she reaches that goal before draining herself. She even (sometimes) factors in the impact of magically draining herself of energy while attempting tasks that require both magical and physical endurance (such as when deciding how much magic to spend warming herself when making her blizzard hike to claim the Dominion Jewel.)
For one thing, this makes Alanna insanely powerful. In In the Hand of The Goddess, she breaks open Roger’s magically locked door (presumably designed by Roger himself-- an immensely strong and well-trained sorcerer) by shoving her own magic into it until it MELTS. This builds an Alanna who decided magical theory was useless at age 12 because she has an immense access to magical potential energy, and who never learns the basic life-preserving models of magic usage that are taught in intro-level classes. She doesn’t have an interest in learning more sophisticated forms of magic, except in healing, which she cared about enough to learn non-magically. So when she heals, she uses magic as a guide or a supplement, rather than depending on it and then draining herself.  Since she isn’t attempting complex magic, most of the time the limitations of drawing directly from her own life force doesn’t impact her that much. The things she does magically all have much more efficient alternatives, but they require an understanding of magical theory and ability to store energy that Alanna never learned! If she wants to do larger spells, she just keeps feeding energy into it until it breaks or she does. 
The intervening series and Numair’s story makes Alanna’s simultaneously more and less believable. It now makes sense why everyone with even a slight understanding of Alanna’s type of Gift gets angry at times and tells her she’s using magic irresponsibly. (Before, we only understood Alanna’s side of the argument: “Well, I didn’t die and it worked, so calm down.” !!!) The fact that she never actually dies and only rarely is seriously harmed through her own magic use now requires some suspension of disbelief!
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externalmemorycomic · 9 months
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Image description: a five page comic with messy writing and messy line drawings coloured with gouache. Each page has four panels and each panel has a caption and an image. Page one Caption: Mouse and Ruth go for drives a lot. Image: a red car drives down a country road. Caption: to stores and beaches and the dump where you can find cool things. Image: a white mouse looks up at a wall with doll’s heads nailed to it, labeled “wall of dolls”. Caption: I almost never join. Ruth asks, “isn’t My going stir crazy?” Image: a deer is driving a car, and the mouse sits on a pile of pillows on the passenger’s seat. Caption: but I’m so used to this I forget there’s anything to go crazy about Image: an orange cat lies in bed.
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Page two Caption: When we lived in Malmö there were weeks I didn’t leave the apartment Image: the cat peeks out a window, looking at a pigeon that’s pooping on the window ledge. Caption: months I didn’t see anyone besides Mouse. I just couldn’t manage the stairs Image: the cat looks down an exaggerated, maze-like staircase. Caption: Mouse wasn’t much better off. I took up indoor “gardening” so we wouldn’t miss nature too much. Of course I often couldn’t water the plants. It felt bitter and symbolic when they died Image: the cat is in a different bed, looking at a house plant on a side table that’s beginning to wilt. Caption: here there’s no stairs and I have plants and bees right outside my window Image: the cat is in the first bed, drawing a comic. There’s a flower, a butterfly and a bee outside the window behind it.
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Page three Caption: people tend to get frustrated with my acceptance Image: the cat takes down a half finished painting from an easel. Caption: even after we’ve talked a lot about my illness, they think I should plan ahead as if a cure is right around the corner Image: a rabbit is standing beside a table covered in unfinished canvases, looking at  one of them. The cat stands behind them, looking nervous. Caption: often it’s the same people who respond to tragedies you CAN fix by saying “life’s not fair” Image: the cat is rescuing bugs from drowning in a water barrel and the rabbit looks over its shoulder, looking annoyed. Caption: but when I let go of what I can’t have, they see it as defeat. Image: the cat is curled up and hiding in bed while the rabbit stands over them, frowning, holding the unfinished painting and waving two paintbrushes.
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Page four Caption: I understand the impulse to say “maybe some day”. When it’s kindly meant, I value the intention. Image: The rabbit has its arm around the cat’s shoulder and waves towards a thought bubble. In the thought bubble the cat is floating and happy at the end of a rainbow with pink clouds, flowers and a smiling sky in the background. Caption: but few things are more dangerous to my soul than “maybe some day” Image: the cat huddles on the ground and hides its face. Right above the cat, as if pushing down, is a bigger thought bubble with images of the cat looking happy - dancing, being held, proudly painting, holding a baby. Caption: There is no greater wisdom in life than: fix what you can and accept what you can’t. Image: the thought bubble is breaking up and shrinking. The cat is sitting up, smiling at a dandelion beside it. Caption: some times, giving up isn’t just the only way to survive but to thrive, and leave room for joy. Image: The half finished canvases are burning on the ground and the cat walks away without looking back.
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Page five Caption: today I’m sad because I’m in pain and I miss moving and doing Image: the cat is crying in bed. Caption: but when I thank God for giving me this life filled with blessings, it’s from the heart. Image: the cat wipes away some tears and looks a little happier. Caption: I am happy more often than not. I mostly cry from gratitude. There is no contradiction Image: the cat closes its eyes and is surrounded by a pink glow and red cartoon hearts. Caption: life will ask me to let go of much bigger things and maybe I can come with to the dump next time Image: the cat looks at the wall of dolls and says: “cool!” End ID. Here's some disability thoughts I had during my latest flare (hence the wobblier-than-usual lines and messy writing). I hope it makes sense even if I was pretty confused when I made it! I have POTS and ME/CFS, as well as ADHD and being autistic. Accepting the reality of being bed/housebound and hard-of-thinking often is going to be a life long effort but I'm getting there. Happy disability pride month!!! Reblogs are much appreciated! (if you wanna help me live and stuff and make more art and comics I have a Patreon. I post comic pages there on average once a day for the 3€ tier as well as other fun things! Link in my pinned post)
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heartfullofleeches · 7 months
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Creep Reader and Nightmare fuel Imaginary Friend Yan- Just a little weirdo and their formless, multi limbed best friend who acts as their consciousness/helps them express emotions they can't while still slaughter anyone who gets too close
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[Creep Readers attempts to comfort someone who's family juse died]
Creep Reader: Little help?
[Invisible hands tug the corners of their lips into a smile]
Creep Reader: Other way. I know you think I should smile more, but nows probably not the time
[The hands work their lips into a frown]
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Person: Hm? What that you're drawing?
Creep Reader, scribbling in their notebook: Maisie.
Person: Aw, is that your Imaginary Friend? Aren't you a little too older for one of those?
Creep Reader: They're real, you just can't see them. They asked me to draw this for them since they knew you were coming. See-
[Creep Reader shows the person a drawing of a shadowy silhouette holding their decapitated head and holding reader's palm in one of its many hands.]
Creep Reader: They said to title it "five minutes from now
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[Creep Reader finds an old plush they lost when they were younger on their bed]
Creep Reader: You.... but, my parents gave you away because I was too old.... Maisie, did you find it for me?
Imaginary Friend Yan: [purrs happily, spitting human bones on their carpet]
Creep Reader: You brought more for my collection too... Thanks, Maisie :)
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kingtomura · 12 days
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Deja Vu | 1 | January Embers
summary: Your best friend died years ago. He went up in flames until there was nothing left — so why does it feel like you can still see him sometimes? content: touya todoroki x female reader, childhood friends au, reader has a quirk, time skipping, flashbacks, fluff, heavy angst, bullying, eventual smut, eventual meaning next chapter, soft touya, hurt/comfort, tragedy, mdni wc: 4.5k | Chapter 2 | m. list | read on ao3
You meet Touya Todoroki when you are four years old.
He was a redhot firecracker that demanded the attention of you and all those around him. 
Touya Todoroki was also the first in your class to have his quirk maifest. It was the talk for about a week, everyone expecting nothing less from the son of the flame hero, Endeavor, himself. 
You would watch him some days, flaunting his newfound power on the playground in front of others, knowing he would be some great hero one day. Even better than All Might, he would yell to anyone that would listen. It was a decent dream, you believed. Maybe someone could actually be better than All Might. 
It didn’t seem like that would be in the cards for you, as it became more apparent as the days went by that you may not have a quirk. The excitement of watching every other child’s quirk manifest began to fill you with a pit of dread.
Quirkless. 
It’s something you never thought you would have to think about. The realization hadn’t caught up with the rest of your class yet and you could only thank the stars.
But it was only a matter of time before a group of three noticed. 
They cornered you while you tried drawing shapes in the sanded area of the playground. 
“Hey,” one kid dragged, horns proudly peeking out of his head. “What’s goin’ on with you?” 
You spared him a glance before going back to your sand, gliding the stick you found through the yellow grains. “What do you mean?”
One girl behind him pipes up, curly pigtails bouncing with the tilt of her head,  “Where’s your quirk? Aren’t you turning five soon?”
The emphasis on five makes you jolt a little and you try to play it off — offering a little shrug to the trio. “I dunno. Mom says I'm a late bloomer.” you pray they will be satisfied with your answer and leave you alone. 
The third kid finally speaks, sporting a new pair of bat-like wings. “No way, I bet you’re gonna be quirkless!”
The other children erupt in a loud laugh that calls the attention of your other classmates — much to your dismay. 
“That’s so sad for you!” the girl yelled, grin on her face showing not an ounce of pity. 
“Yeah, really!” The first boy laughs, taking a step forward and kicking the sand you were drawing in towards you, effectively ruining your picture and your day. 
You go to stand, brushing the sand off of your dress before the girl rushes forward to push you, sending you down to land flat on your bottom. Your bottom lip wobbled as you tried to hold back the tears and humiliation threatening to spill over and out. 
The bat-winged boy pointed to you, “Look, guys, she’s gonna cry!” Yelling out to anyone who could hear, only causing you to dip your head in shame, now unable to stop the warm tears from trailing down your cheeks. 
And you thought today couldn’t get any worse.
“Hey! Knock it off!” You hear a voice yell, familiar. “Flashfire fist!”
You feel the heat before you see it, hot and swift.
The screams make you look up. Its Touya, red hair and fist aflame, standing in front of you and effectively blocking you from the trio of bullies before. 
“Ouch, Touya! You could have really hurt us!” the girl with pigtails cried, holding her own wrist as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
The boy who kicked sand at you spoke up next, voice wavering on the verge of tears as well, “Yeah, you jerk!”
Touya shrugged, flames dissipating and points a finger at them, “I don't care. Bullies’ feelings dont matter!” 
You could only stare with wet lashes as the trio ran off — no doubt to tell the teacher. Touya didn’t seem to mind, as a matter of fact he seemed proud as he turned to you and reached out a hand to help you up. He was all smiles and warm eyes, “Are you alright?”
You take his hand, noting how warm it still was from his previous quirk use and nod, “Mhm, thank you.”
“It’s no problem,” he helped you to your feet before continuing, his smile almost blinding, “I’m Touya Todoroki, the next number one hero.” 
You nod and introduce yourself, cheeks warm and smile dancing across your face. His mood is infectious. “Nice to meet you, Touya, next number one hero.” 
Later that day you realize Touya does get in trouble for improper quirk use and can’t help but apologize. 
“It’s fine!” He returns, not bothered in the slightest. “I’d do it again and again, if I had to.”
After the incident Touya insisted on being by your side the rest of the day. During lunch, arts and crafts and even nap time. He would go where you would go and you couldn’t say you minded. Once school had finished for the day and it was time to break apart Touya insisted you both hang out more.
Even going as far as to introduce himself to your parents as they came to pick you up. 
His foot tapped in excitement as he told them about your days and how you should hang out more. 
That’s how you both find yourselves in some forest on the weekend, walking together through the fresh snow, because Touya just had to show you this cool training spot. 
“But, don't you think we’re going too far, Touya?” You ask, nerves trembling as you look around the forest. You wouldn’t know your way back without him and you’ve never been this far out alone. 
“No,” he singsongs, “C’mon– don't be such a baby,” 
You puff your cheeks, running to catch up with him,  “Don’t call me that, but okay!” 
He grabs your hand once you are by his side and it's warm. Touya is always warm. 
“We’re almost there, anyway!” 
This special place looked the same as any other place in these woods, but you wouldn’t let Touya know. He’s so excited to show you what he came to do. 
“My dad and I train here sometimes.” He starts, smiling as he backs away from you to show you a flame in his hand. “He thinks my flames will be hotter than his one day.”
You can’t hide the way your eyes fill with sadness as you look to the ground. 
“I don’t think I’m gonna get a quirk, Touya.” 
The boy’s smile drops instantly, as he rushes over to you, taking your face in his tiny hands. Still so warm, like always. 
“Hey, don’t say that! Maybe you aren't trying the right things.” He dips behind you before you could turn to stop him, “Maybe you can see in the dark!” His hypothesis being tested by covering your eyes. 
You bite back a laugh, “No, Touya, I don't think it works like that.” 
The boy lets you go and runs to a rather large, fallen log – climbing atop it and looking down to you. “Well, maybe you can fly. Have you tried that?” 
You shake your head, unable to hide the worry in your face. Touya was up pretty high. “Hey… you shouldn’t be up that far.” 
“What do you mean? It’s fine!” he reassures, continuing his musing while walking along the fallen log. “Besides, it’s not like I'm clumsy or anything—!” 
The boy’s words were cut short by his shoe stepping down and slipping on the ice below it, sending him crashing down to the patch of snow and debris below. 
In that moment, your hand shoots out before you can think and there’s ringing in your ears. Your eyes squeezed shut as you wait for the impending crash. But it doesn’t come. 
You slowly open your eyes and see… Touya. He’s okay. Better than okay because he’s floating above the snowy patch of grass below, debris and everything brushed away. Your hand is still out as you meet Touya's wide eyes. 
“Whoa!” You finally pull your hand back and watch his feet gently touch the grass below. “Dude, you have mind powers! So cool!” 
You will your breathing to go back to normal as you take in the new information. You do have a quirk. All hope was not lost. 
The feeling of warm liquid creeping down your nostril catches your attention. Bringing a finger to your nose, you pull back and see the crimson drop. Blood. The sound of Touya’s steps through the snow breaks your focus. 
“Hey, what happened? You're bleeding.” He takes your finger in his hand, red brows furrowed and cerulean eyes filled with worry. 
You shrug, taking your hand back and wiping your nose with your sleeve, unaware of the tiny smear of blood you left across your face. “I dunno. I’m not hurt, though.”
At this, Touya smiles, bringing his own hand to your face to wipe the remainder of what you smeared. “You better not be! We’re gonna be heroes together — you and me!”
It’s so infectious, the way he lights up with a smile, you can’t help but return it. “Yeah, we sure will.”
—----------------
The first time you think you see Touya it’s while you are on your way home from the bustling area of downtown. 
The shops are crowded with people trying to get their last minute gifts for the holidays and you promised your parents you would be home hours ago. It’s a flash – so quick you almost miss it. 
Almost. 
Through the crowd there's a glint of white hair and blue eyes. You stop, sending the people behind you nearly barrolling into your backside and profusely apologize, half heartedly hearing their grumbles as you make your way through the flurry of people. 
The snow white hair is a little further ahead, but you can see bits and pieces where the sea of heads will naturally move. 
Was that…
It couldn’t be. Your heart picks up as you nearly chase your way through, mumbling faint excuse me’s and pardon me’s to those around you as you lock onto the moving person. It's becoming harder to keep up and you break out in a light sprint. 
The person takes a sharp left into an alley and you follow behind, only to be met with the emptiness of a damp back alley. 
There was no way it could be him. Your mind was playing tricks on you. 
You shake your head, hoping you could physically shake those thoughts from your brain and turn to head home. It had been a long day.
There is a battle raging in your mind — one that you are not sure is formed from grief or from anxiety. it is an all consuming inferno of blackened dust in your heart and you cannot stop yourself when you bring it up to Fuyumi.
You both have been sitting in silence for a while, wrapping gifts for the upcoming holidays. She has been in her own little world, humming christmas tunes, while you have been in a fit of inner turmoil. 
“Hey, Fuyumi,” you start, instantly catching her attention in the otherwise quiet home. 
“Hm?”
Your nerves are eating your confidence and you start to second guess yourself. Only the warmth in her gray eyes gives you the resolve to continue. “Something weird happened at the market the other day.”
She tilts her head, flowing ponytail following the direction, “What’s that?”
“I was walking and,” you stall — unsure if bringing up your friend's dead brother before the holidays would be a good move. “I swear, I thought I saw Touya. It was a flash, but the guy had his white hair and,” unwanted tears are blurring your vision, “and his eyes were so much like Touya’s i don't—” you're choking up, tears fighting their way through your throat, “I thought i was going crazy.”
Surprisingly, Fuyumi takes it well, reaching a hand out to touch your shoulder, a comforting motion you’ve grown to know over the years. 
“Hey, it’s okay. That could have been anyone, you know?” She smiles, and it’s bittersweet like the flowers at a funeral, “it’s the holiday season so everyone is out right now.”
You nod, reluctant, but logical. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. It was pretty crowded in that area.” the tears would force their way through your resistance whether you fought them or not, so you give up – letting them flow down your cheeks. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, Fuyumi.”
“No, it's okay! Don't worry about it." She looks to the side. “It’s only been three years since it happened, and the anniversary of his death is coming up too. It's harder around this time of year. For all of us.” 
You can only nod as Fuyumi brings you into a tight hug. Your resolve melted away in her arms as you cried, it felt like things would never get easier. 
A life without Touya wasn’t a life you could see yourself living happily in.
You wished and prayed for him everyday — unwilling to believe your best friend was really truly gone. It felt so surreal. Like something that happens in movies and not to you.
Fuyumi said nothing as she held you and rubbed soothing circles on your back. She has been a pillar for you in these times and you couldn’t be more grateful. Only wishing you could show your gratuity in a more effective form than just sobbing into her shoulder. 
There is an anguish in your heart that will not go away. A part of you died when Touya did, there was no denying that. 
Fuyumi pulls away, holding you by the shoulders as her eyes meet yours — she's started crying too and it's enough to make you shake with sobs again. 
“Hey, hey,” Fuyumi starts, her voice unwavering despite the tears. You wish you were strong like her. “We’ll get through this, okay? We just have to be strong.”
You give her a pathetic nod, one more for her sake than yours, and try to sit up straighter. 
You knew that Touya wouldn’t want to see you like this.
—-------------------
When you are five years old, you notice there is a change in Touya.
You gasp when you see him again, “Touya! Your hair!” 
His eyebrows scrunch at your pointing and then widen in realization. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry about that.” Touya huffs, “were you even listening?”
The question startles you and you quickly nod your head, knowing you didn't hear a word he said. “Mhm!”
Touya keeps talking, now bringing a hand to his hair, rubbing a lock between his forefinger and thumb, “Okay, so what’s the deal?” 
You can't stop the confused look in your eye as you watch him, cheeks rosy from the cold. It snowed again yesterday, and Touya never seemed bothered by the cold. You were freezing though. 
Somehow you let him bring you back to this forest — it’s become your go to hangout. A place where the both of you could practice your quirks in peace. 
“Do you like All Might or something?” 
You shrug, indifferent to the well known hero. Your parents weren’t heroes and neither was anyone in your family. He seemed more like a comic book character than an actual person. 
“Well, it doesn't matter. My dad told me I’m gonna be even better than All Might! So he better watch out.”
You smile, seeing his eyes light up, “Oh, yeah? How are you gonna be better than him, Touya?” 
You don’t know why but it makes your heart dance when he gets this way. Stars in his eyes and world in his hand. He’s your hero, you absently wonder if he knows that. 
Touya shrugs, scrunching his nose in thought, “I dunno. I haven’t gotten that far yet.” He snaps his fingers and turns to you, “I know! I’ll look it up. It can’t be too hard, right?”
You laugh now. Of course he doesn’t have a plan.
“Don't you think if it were that easy he wouldn't be the number one right now?” You test, and Touya gives you a look, pout strong on his face.
“Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?”
“Yours! So, I don't want you to waste your time on silly stuff.” You offer, looking at the leaves you're making dance in your hand. 
He groans, the frustration evident in his voice, “Whatever! I’ll figure something else out.”
In that moment, there’s a great gust of wind — whistling and blowing the leaves in your hand away. It’s chill makes you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering. 
“Touya, don’t you get cold?” You ask, arms doing little to warm yourself as you continue to shiver. 
The boy looks at you, brows furrowed and eyes confused. “No, do you?”
“Yes!” You shout, “all the time! It’s so c-cold out here. I don’t know how you do it.” 
He walks over to you, pondering and examining your face. “Yeah, your nose is all red. Rudolf.” 
He takes your face into his hands and closes his eyes, rubbing his nose against yours back and forth. It’s warm and it makes you flush. Your cheeks burn when he pulls away, stunned at the smile on his face and stars in his eyes.
“Better?” He asks, innocent question ringing in your ears and you realize yes, you do feel better, but you also feel warm and fuzzy like there are butterflies dancing around in your belly and you can’t get them out — so, you just nod instead, slow smile creeping on your face and Touya grabs your hand again.
“Good! Now let’s keep going! There’s this cool new move I wanna try.” 
And you follow behind him. He was your best friend after all. You feel as though you would even follow him through the icy storms of Antarctica if you needed to. 
—-------------------
Christmas with the Todoroki’s has always been interesting. For one, half of them were not present during the dinner. Rei being sent to the facility, endeavor choosing to work on his hero duties and little Shouto desperately trying to eat with all of you without Enji coming home to find him out of his room. 
The silence is eerie – other than the sounds of metal clinking against porcelain plates. 
You couldn’t help but break the tense air, words sounding loud in the quiet of the room, “Thank you all for inviting me over. The food is really good, Natsuo.”
At this, Natsuo perks up, a smile so wide on his face it makes his eyes squeeze shut. “We love having you around! You’re like the big sis we never had!”
“Hey!” Fuyumi squawks, ready to scold her little brother, “I’m the one who knows where you sleep Natsu, so watch it!”
You can’t help but laugh at the threat, knowing Natsuo has been a victim to many of Fuyumi’s pranks. Shouto only watches on, eating as much as he could before he would inevitably go back to his side of the home. There wasn’t much expression to his face, but he seemed content to watch his older siblings bicker back and forth. 
Times like these were nice, you decide. It pulls your mind away from the reality and into the more lively parts of growing up.
After the dinner was done, and the gifts were passed out, there was a somber air growing about you all once more. 
Shouto went back to his room and Natsuo found his place in the living room, playing video games and insisting that since he cooked most of the meal, he shouldn’t wash dishes as well. 
Much to Fuyumi’s dismay, you agreed with Natuso, but offered to help her with the dishes. It was something to prolong the inevitable walk home. 
“What did you get for him this year?” Fuyumi asked, passing you another plate to dry.
You glanced at her, noting how she avoided your gaze, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth instead. “It’s something I’ve been working on for a while. A necklace — with charms and things I think he would like.”
She nods, bringing an arm up to wipe her eyes with her wrist, “Yeah, I’m sure he would love that. He always liked your gifts.”
It’s impossible not to find yourself tearing up. 
Once you were done washing dishes with Fuyumi, she went to join Natsuo in the living room, offering unwanted tips on the current game he was playing and receiving groans of irritation in return. 
You take that as your cue to leave and make your way to the place you’ve dreaded all night.
Touya’s shrine.
His memoriam stared back at you as you dropped to your knees, lowering your head in prayer and then placing the small decorated box onto the shelf of his shrine. 
“Oh, Touya… it’s been three years.” You say to his photo hanging above the shrine. It’s his school photo. You were both in the same class, already talking about what high schools you would be choosing in the upcoming years.  
It doesn’t feel like three years. It feels like everyday is the same — you wake up and he’s not there. Like a day you’re doomed to repeat until the reality of it all finally sets in. 
What would he look like now, you wonder. Would he have gotten taller? He had always been smaller than the other kids. Would he still have dreams of being a hero? You didn’t know. You wished you knew. 
Your fists clinch in your lap and the tears flow freely from your eyes. Even with your head bowed you can’t stop seeing his picture etched into your brain. Those blue eyes staring into your eyes. 
A sob escapes your lips and it all comes crashing down after that. 
“God, Touya..!” Your words break down, sending your resolve with it. It feels like your heart has been ripped out of your chest and you’ve been openly bleeding out for three years. 
You are only sixteen years old and expected to spend the rest of your life without the boy who would put the moon in the sky for you. 
Unthinkable.
You’re not sure how much time has passed once you’ve calmed down, but you know it’s late now. 
It was time to head home, and you wished Fuyumi and Natsuo well as you hugged them. They wave you off, faces somber and words tight. If they heard you crying, they didn't mention it and you’re thankful. 
The trek home would not be not a long one, but you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a detour. 
The forest where you and Touya always hung out was nearby and you can't stop your feet when you make a sharp right turn and head that way. 
It was getting dark and snow was beginning to fall, but you felt at home.
There's a river you like to walk along. It's such a small little stream that never seems to freeze over, no matter how cold it is outside. It is where you find yourself trailing beside. The water being the only noise breaking through the quiet of the forest.
It kept you company until you reached the familiar open patch of grass, which was currently covered in snow. 
Some trees were still charred from the incident, but others were still standing proud. It’s strange how that works — some things can remain the same through adversity while others are damaged beyond repair. You wonder if things could ever grow back from such tragedies.
Maybe the growth of something new could come from the ashes of the old. Like a phoenix.
The snapping of a twig snatches you from your thoughts. 
It's a forest, yes, but this area doesn’t have much food for the animals. You stand to your feet, absently wondering when you had taken a seat in the first place, and look around. Maybe it was a trick of the wind, or something falling. 
The snow crunches under your feet as you begin to take your leave — you’ve been out long enough. 
You make your way through the thick of the trees until something brings you to pause. 
Your steps were not the only steps you were hearing. 
“Hello?” You call out into what you hoped had been an empty forest, only to be met with silence. It is not a comforting quiet, it was a quiet that crept underneath your skin and gave you goosebumps. 
It felt like you were being watched. 
“This isn’t funny!” You yell, taking cautious steps backwards, preparing yourself for a sprint in the opposite direction. 
You turn, ready to take off when a glimmer of silver catches your eye, the flicker making you halt your movements.
Your heart hammered against your chest.
There was no way. 
It was so faint, but you knew the necklace you crafted like the back of your hand.
“Hey! Stop fucking around, whoever you are!” You don’t know where this brave face is coming from, but you aren’t backing down. You could fight if need be.
Against your better judgment, you take a few steps forward, and like you thought, whoever was around took those steps with you. Your breath hitches when you see it. 
A flash of white hair. 
You break off into a sprint, and the person is already off, having a headstart and leaving you behind. 
You couldn’t see as well through the snowfall, but you didn’t need to. White hair and the shimmer of a necklace around the person’s neck has you chasing them deeper into the woods. 
“Stop..!” You cry out, reaching a hand forward in an attempt to activate your quirk. 
The force of it causes branches to fall from a tree further ahead of the person and he only changes direction. 
You follow behind, lungs burning as you struggle to keep up. There was another attempt, bringing an already leaning tree down in front of the running man. It still did not work, he simply jumped over it and continued on. 
You were approaching your limit with your quirk and desperate. If you let this slip through your fingers it would drive you mad. 
“Wait!” You try again, reaching both hands forward and focusing all you had on the man before you. It was hard to ignore the blood trickling from both nostrils with your quirk use, but you had to, this was your only chance. “Touya..!”
And in that moment, the man stopped — whether it be from your quirk holding him in place or his own will, you weren't sure. All you knew was that the man stopped, and turned.
Your vision began to blur as your head pounded from the overexertion — your quirk was difficult to use on a living being, but it didn’t matter. You would know those eyes even in your darkest hour.
The cerulean blue was the last thing you saw before your world went dark. 
And in your final moments, only one thought rang in your mind.
Touya is alive.
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palskippah · 3 months
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Hi!!
Here's two pages of sketchy drawings of Queen River and baby Bowser bonding I did for @raysbrainrot! I loved drawing it, thank you very much!!
(Here's my commission info btw!)
Also, here's a few points that I think are nice to say but didn't fit in the drawings :''v (I have so many thoughts of them hepl 🧍)
-Queen River tried to sew a bib for baby Bowser bc he was drooling everywhere and of course she could buy them the nicest bibs in the whole kingdom and all- but she wanted for it to be special. She knew that many koopa mothers usually made clothes (only when needed because koopas don't really use clothes but babies sometimes need them) or accessories for their koopalings, so she tried that too.
>Thing is, she's much bigger compared to her own baby, and she struggled a lot to sew Bowser's name on the tiny cloth, she used no more than five stitches for each letter and even then she didn't account for the space needed, so all she could put there was 'BOWS' with a crooked S.
>She was embarrassed as hell when Kamek asked what was it that had her so upset and she showed him the sewn bib while he looked at it and she covered her face in shame, he started to laugh- and then the drawing happened and that.
>Kamek started almost always dressing baby Bowser in that bib, and soon the nickname 'Bows' stuck for a while, until the queen died and from then on Kamek started calling him Bowser or 'little prince' or 'your *insert current emotion*-ness' solely, bc it was the queen who (without meaning to) gave Bowser the nickname, and it was like a reminder that she wasn't there anymore. With time, the nickname faded into forgetfulness, and no one ever called the koopa prince that anymore.
-Btw remember that baby Bowser had like they/them pronouns mostly bc they didn't have idea if the baby was boy or girl 🧍something about royal koopas idk
-When Kamek told Luigi of all he could remember of the queen and Bowser bonding, there was a very clear fondness in the way he remembered her, even after so many years (Bowser's like thirty-and-a-few years old, so it has been so long ago), and that's another part Luigi thought was very adorable, aside from the mom and baby.
-I imagine babies marvel at the fact that there's a very big being taking care of them, so imagine baby Bowser also thought so of the very big koopa that always was very sweet and congratulated him even when he didn't do anything and cuddled him very lovingly- and then one day she wasn't there anymore and it felt like he lost a part of himself (I can't remember when is it that babies realize their mom isn't a part of themselves?? But :''''v), even if the other being that took such good care of him (dada) was still there, he cried a lot because the main one (mama) wasn't there anymore and no matter how much they called her she didn't come to comfort them.
That's all pipipi :'v I love them
Addition!
-After Queen River's death her portraits and pictures had to be taken down in the whole castle (maybe except the one in Kamek's room, which he looked at very sadly-) because baby Bowser kept seeing them and getting excited and making grabby hands to the portraits to reach them, and then they'd get sad and would cry when the paintings obviously didn't reach back for them. Kammy and Kamek (with a big pain in their heart) had the paintings and any art representing the queen to be taken down, so the prince wouldn't see them. That's also why Bowser started forgetting about her very quickly, and then they didn't get sad nor missed their mom 👍 cries
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tooearlyforthis · 1 year
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The Romance Section | Steve Harrington
Emerging from my hibernation to post this fever dream lol. Still on that Stranger Things high but I'll be getting back to some MCU stuff soon <3
Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Synopsis: An unexpected friendship arises while working at Family Video and Robin is convinced that it could turn into something more.
Warnings: fluff, angst, friends to lovers, mutual pining
Click here to see my masterlist
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In the 4 months since working at Family Video. Y/n L/n had never once worked a shift with Steve Harrington. Sure, they had run into each other a couple times, sharing a co-worker and best friend, Robin Buckley, but the two had never been alone together. 
That was, until this Monday.
Monday’s were always slow which is why Y/n was looking forward to spending her whole shift gossiping and talking movies with Robin. But when she opened the door, the last person she expected to see was the former “king” of Hawkins High. 
“Hey,” Steve said, awkwardly shifting his weight between his two feet. 
“I-I thought Robin was working today,” was all she could muster to say. 
“She’s sick, I’m just filling in.”
Nodding, Y/n warily made her way over to the front desk, putting her stuff behind the counter. What was she going to do for eight hours with Steve Harrington? From the little she knew about him, they were total opposites. He like sports, shitty blockbusters and went through women like they were nothing. There was nothing she could possibly think of that would make for interesting conversation with him.
Instead of attempting to make small talk about the weather and whatever new burger Benny decided to put on his menu, she opted for complete separation from him. After placing her bag on the ground, pulling out her water to keep on the small shelf below the register, she turned to face him. 
“Keith hasn’t reorganized this place since we were sophomores so I’m gonna go do that,” she said, walking away from the counter, not waiting for a response. 
“What about customers?” she heard him say from behind.
“It’s a Monday. I say we’re gonna have 5 customers for the entire day tops.”Turning into an isle, she opted to start with the arthouse films. 
“Hmm I say seven.”
Peeking her head from around the corner, she looked at him confused. He leaned against the counter, a smirk on his face like he had just predicted the Y2K problem. 
“Are you trying to challenge me?” she asked, unsure of what game he was playing. 
Shrugging his shoulders, he emerged from behind the counter. “Maybe I am. What do you say? Five or less, you win. Seven or more, I do.”
“What about in between?”
“Let’s call it a draw.”
Rolling her eyes, she withdrew back into the arthouse section. “Whatever to get you to stop talking, Harrington.”
It was a good 30 minutes before they spoke again. Nobody came in, like expected, but she could hear him fidgeting with something on the other side of the room. She didn’t care, though, let him do what he wanted it wasn’t bothering her… until it was. 
“Alright, what do you think?” he said, turning into the isle. He held up a drawing, not a particularly good one as Y/n couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be. 
“Of the blob you drew?” she asked, putting another tape back on the shelf. 
“It’s not a blob! It’s Mrs. Talc! The math teacher. You had her too right? We were in the same class?”
Y/n couldn’t contain her laughter. She brought a hand up to her mouth trying to hold back but it wasn’t working. “Yeah, we were but she didn’t look like that.”
Steve smiled, looking at his drawing and back at her. “I think it looks exactly like her.”
She kept laughing, Steve joining along as he moved next to her, picking up a film from her pile to organize. As the chuckles died down, she looked at him, smiling as he carefully placed the films back on the shelf. It was a moment before he realized her stare.
“What?” he asked, placing another tape on the shelf. 
“N-nothing,” she said quickly, grabbing a tape herself. “I didn’t know you actually knew how to work here.”
“Hey, I can do my job!”’
“Yeah but you’re Steve. King Steve who if I remember correctly, was failing Mrs. Talc’s class.” That seemed to strike a chord with him. She watched as his small smile disappeared, leaving a solemn expression on his face. “S-sorry I didn’t mean-“
“-No it’s okay,” he interrupted her. “I was King Steve, or at least that’s what everyone labeled me as… You were right I was failing Talc, but I’m different now. Changed for the better -hopefully.”
He took the last film, placing it on the shelf before looking down at her. She didn’t know what to say after judging him so harshly. Before even getting the chance to apologize, the front bell rang, indicating a customer walking in. 
Steve backed up, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’ll go help them out,” he said, walking away without waiting for a response. 
She felt like shit, bringing up high school drama that he clearly wanted to forget. He was right, about him changing. If this was still high school he wouldn’t even be speaking to her right now - she was surprised that he even remembered they shared a class. 
As she turned the corner she watched as Steve intently recommended a movie to the customer. He put a smile on his face as he handed over the tape, patiently waiting as they viewed it. He was quite good at this job actually, she was never able to get someone to rent a tape as fast as he just did. 
The customer left the store, some blockbuster movie shoved into a plastic bag and Y/n decided right then and there that she would make an effort to know the new Steve Harrington. 
Walking up to the counter, she rested her arms on top. “Alright Harrington,” she started. “How about we make this bet more interesting?”
He was caught by surprise, not expecting to get another sentence out of his co-worker for the rest of the shift. “S-sure,” he mustered out, recovering quickly with a raised eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”
“Loser buys the other lunch.”
He debated only for a moment before holding out his hand for her to shake. “Alright, L/n, you’ve got yourself a bet.”
With a smile she shook his hand before turning around to go start organizing another shelf. She couldn’t see from behind as she turned into the action movie section but Steve had a grin that reached from ear to ear. 
——
After that initial shift, the one where Steve ended up buying her lunch for the day, the two workers grew closer and closer. Y/n suddenly found herself having more one on one shifts with him, each which were filled with laughter and soon-to-be inside jokes. 
Robin was especially grateful for their new friendship, finally having her two best friends get along was the best gift she could’ve asked for - and she made no effort to hide that fact.
“I just can’t believe that you and the dingus are getting along!” she said, watching Y/n stack another tape on the shelf. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, well you were right,” Y/n said. “He’s changed since high school. He’s actually a decent human being now.”
“I told you so!”
“Robin, I just said you were right,” she reminded her friend, making them both chuckle slightly. 
Almost on cue, the doorbell rang and Steve Harrington walked through. Robin watched as her friend stood up straight, walking over to join her from behind the counter.
“Hey Steve,” Robin greeted him. “We were just talking about you.”
“What?” Y/n said quickly, seeing the confused look on his face turning to face him. “No we weren’t. What’s up? I thought it was your day off?”
“It is, I just grabbed the wrong tape when I left yesterday and Henderson is throwing a hissy fit. I’ll just go grab the right one… do you wanna help me?”
“S-sure!” Y/n exclaimed, walking out from around the counter to head over with him.
Robin watched the scene unfold in front of her with suspicion. She watched as Steve fumbled with the tape he was holding, walking closely next to his new friend. Y/n made no move to back away, smiling as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. It was like a scene straight out of a movie. Robin watched as Steve picked up the new tape, brushing over Y/n's hand softly in the process. 
Backing away slightly, he raised a hand to her. “See you Buckley!”
“Bye Harrington!” she yelled as Y/n made her way back over to the counter with a smile she wasn’t trying to hide. “Alright,” Robin began to her. “When were you gonna tell me?”
Y/n looked at her confused. “Tell you what?”
“That you and Harrington are dating!”
“What!?” she exclaimed, taking a step back. “M-me and Steve? What- no- why- we’re not dating.”
“Well you coulda fooled me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Steve didn’t need help exchanging that tape. He works here he just wanted to be near you! And the way you too were smiling and blushing? I mean, you’re not dating, you guys have it bad for each other.”
“I do not like Steve like that, Robin!” Y/n persisted, crossing her arms. 
“Whatever you say… Hey, you’re still going to Nancy’s party tomorrow right?”
“Yeah I’ll be there… I’m gonna go take my break.”
Waving bye, she headed into the back room, Robin’s comment still on her mind. Steve and her dating? That was ridiculous! She liked talking to him, having his company during work made the shifts feel like they were going by faster. And sure, she liked the way he chuckled at her jokes, like everything she said was clever. 
But they were just friends. 
Even if she did like him, Steve definitely did not think of her the same way. She needed to stop thinking about this. There was no good in dwelling over things that weren’t true.
🎬🎬🎬 
The party at Nancy Wheeler’s was more packed than usual. Y/n didn’t know that she was friendly with this many people but nevertheless, the house was packed. She moved through the living room in an attempt to get to the kitchen when she heard her name being called out. 
“Y/n!” she turned to see Robin, her arm strung over her girlfriend Vickie. 
“Hey guys,” she returned. “Packed house huh?”
“Yeah I think the football team heard it was going on and crashed it,” Vickie commented, practically yelling over the voices around them.
Y/n nodded, searching for a clear path to the kitchen.
“Looking for someone?” Robin said with a smirk.
“No?” Y/n said, not knowing what she was talking about. “I’m trying to find the quickest way to get a beer.”
“Maybe he can help you.” Robin motioned behind her to someone. 
Turning, Y/n was caught by surprise. Steve Harrington was in the living room, look around like he didn’t know what to do. She turned back to Robin and Vickie to ask why he was here but they were gone before she could.
“Hey, L/n,” said Steve, causing her to look back at him.
“H-hey,” she said awkwardly. “I didn’t know you would be here.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I didn’t think you and Nancy were on good terms… I heard about how she dumped you in high school…”
“Yeah…” he said, remembering back to the day she was talking about. “It’s fine, we weren’t meant for each other but we’re still good friends.”
Y/n nodded, looking around not knowing what to do. “So… beer?” she asked. 
“Beer,” he agreed. 
The two finally made their way to the kitchen grabbing two bottles before suddenly there was an arm back on Y/n's shoulder. A friend from high school hastily pulled her away from Steve, giving her just enough time to give him an apologetic look.
As her friend went on, drowning her in every detail of her life since the moment they last saw each other, Y/n tried to think of every possible way to escape the conversation. She tried to go to the bathroom, scan the room for Robin, and even just make up an emergency altogether, but the girl wouldn’t stop speaking. She droned on and on about her boyfriend and how they were going to move in together, not even letting Y/n speak a word. To put it simply, she was exhausted. 
It wasn’t until the girl finally left with her friend that Y/n realized they had been talking for nearly the entire party. She looked around, watching as people crashed to the floor or leaving without saying any goodbyes - she had missed the entire thing. 
The house was a mess and since the party was basically dead now anyways, she thought it was as good as time as any to start cleaning up. Finding a trash bag in the kitchen, she opted to start with the empty cans left in the living room. Slowly putting one bottle after the other in to the bag, she heard someone call out for her. 
Groaning, she turned around, hoping for it not to be her old high school friend. When she saw who it was, a smile was brought to her face.
“Where have you been all night?” asked Steve Harrington, plopping down on the sofa.
“Getting my ear talked off by some girl we used to go to school with. It was so boring,” she told him, putting another can in the bag. 
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Helping clean up, maybe you should too.”
“No,” he waved her off. “Stop that, I hired cleaners to come in the morning.”
Y/n dropped her bag to the side, trying to process what he just say. “I’m sorry you paid for someone to come? Damn Harrington, throwing around the big bucks.”
He gave a small chuckle as she sat down on the couch next to him, their shoulders bumping slightly at the sudden movement. 
“Yeah well what else am I gonna use it for. Might as well help some friends out right?” 
“I guess so…”
Silence took the air for only a moment before Steve continued. “…my parents are never home,” he started up again, a more serious tone taking over his voice. “When you’re constantly alone, it’s easy to get swept up in making yourself busy to uh, block out any of the feelings…so whether it be finding a minimum wage job, hanging out too much with Robin, or paying to have cleaners come to your exes house…it just helps to take your mind off things…”
He trailed off into silence again, scouring to himself for oversharing with someone he barely new. Y/n could tell he was getting tense, the way his shoulders caved in, trying to engulf himself. 
“I get what you mean,” she responded softly, trying to make him feel better.
He looked over at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Yeah?”
Nodding, she continued. “My dad left when I was little… it’s really only been me and my mom for as along as I can remember. I’m so used to cleaning up and taking care of others sometimes it feels like my brain just goes on auto pilot. Like if I’m not helping others I won’t stop to realize I’m not taking care of myself.”
She could see his eyes soften, looking at her like he wasn’t expected to hear her unannounced childhood trauma. 
“S-sorry,” she backtracked, looking down at her lap. “That got a little deep there for a second.”
Quickly Steve replied, “Don’t apologize.” She looked back up at him; he was leaning closer to her, almost feeling his breath against her face. “I like learning new things about you. The good and the bad.”
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.”
She felt herself moving closer, her eyes darting from his eyes down to his lips.
“I like learning new things about you too.”
His hand reached up, cupping her cheek, pulling her in closer. They were practically connected, their lips barely hovering over each other. It was in that moment that Y/n decided, Fuck it.
She closed the gap between them, feeling the hand on her face apply a little but more pressure. It was slow, like they were savoring each last bit of the kiss, like it would be the first and last time this would be happening.
Y/n pushed into him, pulling him closer by the waist as she felt his other hand tangle in her hair. He moaned into her mouth, turning his head to get a new angle. It felt…nice; something she hadn’t expected from the playboy of her old high school. 
Slowly, they pulled away, wanting only a moment to catch their breaths before diving back in. But before their lips could connect again, someone called out for him.
“Steve!” He turned his head, his hair brushing against her face before she turned as well. In stumbled a very drunk Eddie Munson, a bottle of beer dropping from his hands. “H-have u seeen Chrisslsly?” he asked, slurring his words. 
“No, Munson I haven’t,” he replied, a tone of annoyance in his voice. 
Eddie tripped over the hem of the rug, falling on the floor before rolling over on his back aching. Y/n felt Steve leave her embrace, getting up to go help up his friend. Leaning down, he took one of Eddie’s arms and draped it over his shoulder.
“Come on, Munson, let’s get you home.”
Without another word, another acknowledgment of what had just occurred, he left, taking his drunk interrupter with him. 
“What the fuck just happened?” Y/n whispered to herself. 
She ran her hands over her face, like she would wake up from a dream any minute now. But as her eyes opened again she found she was still on Nancy Wheeler’s couch, in shock that she just made out with one of her best friends. 
🎬🎬🎬 
“You’re fucking kidding me!” Robin exclaimed, leaning over the counter of Family Video. 
Y/n was restocking the sci-fi movies, relaying the events of the previous night’s party. “Come on Robin,” she said, putting another movie on the shelf. “It was just a kiss.”
“A kiss?! Y/n, that wasn’t just a kiss. That was a declaration of love!”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, be serious. It was barely anything.”
“Well what does Steve think about this?”
“I haven’t talked to him since it happened…” Y/n said trailing off. “…Eddie came in drunk and he had to leave pretty quickly.”
“And he hasn’t called?”
She shook her head. “Hence why it was only a kiss. He didn’t mean anything more than that.”
“Y/n, Steve doesn’t just kiss anyone.”
“Did we go to the same high school?” she asked sarcastically. 
“Come on, you know he’s changed since then. How else would you guys be friends?” Robin emerged from behind the counter, walking up and grabbing her with both shoulders. “Trust me. He likes you. Eddie just got in the way and he’s probably too nervous to call.”
Robin was being very persistent and it was not helping Y/n's case. She didn’t want to admit it, but, she liked kissing Steve Harrington. She liked that he opened up to her and wanted to know more about her. He was the first boy that felt to her like he actually cared. 
But he didn’t call her, didn’t even acknowledge their kiss as he left the party with Eddie. Sure, he changed his ways but she knew for a fact that Harrington charm was still there. Why wouldn’t he call if it wasn’t just a kiss? 
“I’m going back to restocking,” Y/n said, wanting to be done with the conversation. 
Robin groaned, walking back to her place at the counter. “All my friends are idiots,” she murmured under her breath.
🎬🎬🎬 
Another week went by without any call or talk from Steve. That was, until she walked in for another morning shift, one that she was expecting to see Robin at. 
As she opened the doors to Family Video, finding they were already unlocked, she stumbled back slightly. Steve was already behind the counter, playing with some Rubik’s cube as he waited for the shop to open. 
When he noticed her enter, Steve stood up, tossing the cube to the side, leaning his hands on the counter. “H-hi,” he said awkwardly.
Still in shock that he was here, she got straight to the point. “What are you doing here?”
“Robin, uh, called out sick again.”
Nodding, she put her bag down, not knowing what to do. They hadn’t spoken in over a week, a week since he kissed her and left without another word. She wanted a normal shift with her best friend, one where she didn’t have to worry about what she did or said, or if he was going to reject her to her face. 
“I’m just gonna go organize the romance section,” she said, walking away without another word. 
The shift turned from painful silent into one of the busiest days they had in a along time. Y/n got maybe two tapes on the shelf before a customer came up to ask her a question. Looking over to the counter, hoping Steve could help, she saw he too had another customer at the front. 
With a smile, she turned back to the women in front of her, directing her over to the silent movie section. The first half of their shift went on like that, always someone helping a customer and having no time to do anything else. 
When the half way mark hit and Y/n was able to come back from lunch, it was finally empty. She sighed, watching as Steve went to the back to begin his break, happy she would finally have time with her own thoughts. 
While she was helping the customers, Robin’s words still played in the back of her mind. Steve doesn’t just kiss anyone, he’s changed. It didn’t matter cause he would have talked to her by now - called at least. No, she wouldn’t bring it up because it would only lead to rejection and Y/n didn’t think she could handle that. 
The door in the back slammed close and Y/n peeped her head around the corner to see Steve emerge from the break room. They made eye contact for a moment before she stuff her head back into the romance section, set on organizing the shelf. 
Two hours had past and every now again she check around the corner to see if there were any new customers. There wasn’t but she could see her coworker getting antsy, like he needed to say something but she would hide every time he tried. She had finished organized the section pretty early on, but there was nothing left to do so there she sat, reorganizing the shelf once more. 
Y/n stuck her head out one more time, expecting to see him at the front desk but he was no where to be seen. Thinking he left to get something from the back, she tuned around to grab another tape. The last thing she was expecting to see Steve Harrington standing behind her. Yelping, she jumped back slightly, trying to catch her breath. 
“Jesus, Steve! Why are you standing there like that?!” she exclaimed. 
“You’re ignoring me,” he stated. 
She sighed, grabbing the film. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes you are,” he continued, watching as she continued her task. “You’ve been reorganizing the same section for over two hours.”
“It’s messy,” she shrugged.
“Bullshit.” 
As she went to put another tape on the shelf, he reached out a hand and blocked it. He stepped closer to her as she turned to him, not wanting to deal with his little fit. Staring up at him, she felt her gaze soften to match his. He looked distraught, like he was a bubble that could burst any second. 
In a soft voice he said, “We have to talk about it.”
Oh boy. She couldn’t do this. Not now, not here. “Talk about what?” she asked, knowing full well that was a lie.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh come on.”
She stepped back from him, needing to get away from how close they once were. Slowly she shook her head. “No, we don’t,” she finally gave in. 
“I think we do-“
“No!” she interrupted him, leaning against one of the stacks of tapes. She let her head hit the top shelf behind her as she closed her eyes in defeat. “I won’t let you reject me to my face so let’s just skip this conversation and go on with our shift.”
When she opened her eyes, she saw that Steve was once again in front of her. Making no move to walk away, she watched as he placed both his hands on either side of the shelf, trapping her in his gaze. 
“I lied,” he said plainly. 
“What?”
“I lied, Robin isn’t sick I asked her to trade shifts with me.”
Y/n felt her heart beating faster. What was he saying? What did this mean? 
“Why?” she asked him.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Why do you think?” He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers. “I don’t think that kiss was a mistake, and I really wanna kiss you again.”
Y/n felt her heart drop. Was this real? Was she dreaming right now? She looked up into his eyes, they made her feel like she was the only one in the world. Fuck it, dream or not, she really wanted to kiss him back.
“Then do it,” she said. 
Before the words could even finish forming on her tongue, Steve leaned in, capturing her lips on his. She felt her hands find their way to his waist, trying to pull him closer to her. He pressed her more against the shelf, the kiss quickening and becoming more intense by the second. 
There was almost no time to come up for air as he leaned down to kiss her again. It felt desperate, like thirst you couldn’t quite get rid of. She smiled into the kiss, feeling him do the same. 
They were both so stupid denying their feelings for each other. It was obvious how they felt, and now kissing him in the romance section, she couldn’t figure out why she waited. 
As he moaned into her mouth, the door of Family Video rang. Quickly, they pulled apart, turning their heads to the door. A very shocked Vickie stood, still on the front doormat. Y/n pushed Steve away, trying to clean up her appearance like it would erase what their friend had just seen. 
“Vickie-” Steve tried to start with her but he was cut off quickly.
“-Oh Robin is so going to freak when she hears about this!” she exclaimed, turning to walk back out the store. 
“Wait did you need something?” Y/n asked, wondering why she came in to begin with. 
“Not anymore!” she shouted, bolting to her car outside. 
Y/n heard Steve say, “Shit,” as he moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his head on her shoulder. “Robin is not going to live this down is she?”
“No, I don’t think she will.”
He leaned down, trying to kiss her again but Y/n put a finger up to his lips. She turned around to face him properly. 
“No,” she said.
“But I really wanna kiss you again,” he whined. 
“You can… after you help me organize the romance section.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smirk, walking over and putting tapes of the shelf. 
Y/n laughed watching as he tried to rush through the task. Steve Harrington was a goofball and very bad at communicating his feelings but that didn’t matter anymore. She found her place next to him, helping put the tapes away smiling at the thought of their kiss in the romance section. 
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moonylantsovs · 1 year
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Heyyy can u plz write a season one Bellamy blake x reader griffin/Kane SMUT where they are enemies and leaders of the 100 but don't see eye to eye on anything but have too much sexual tension and attraction towards each other and decide to give into their desire for one night cause they think if they screw each other they get their attraction out of their system?
Invisible String [B.B]
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summary: hating him was easier than loving him. especially when clarke went through so much trouble to keep them away from each other. but for some reason, her attraction to him was much larger than her dignity
pairings: bellamy blake x caroline griffin (oc) a/n: the oc has no description, so feel free to imagine whoever you wish, I just write better when the main character has a name
tags: (18+) wells jaha lives, cursing, the nickname "princess" cause it's kind of cringey but fits their dynamic, SMUT; hate sex, (kinda) dom!bellamy, dirty talk, hate sex, hair pulling
Hating Bellamy Blake was almost too easy.
He was too cocky for his own good and was even worse at listening to orders than Caroline. He had been tormenting her, her sister and Wells since they landed.
But a long time has passed since their first days on Earth. The camp was functioning well and Caroline and Clarke found a way to work with Bellamy. After a kid died and Murphy was banished after being accused of killing some privileged kid, they formed a truce. Bellamy was the one leading the hunting trips and watching over the delinquents who were building the wall, Clarke was in charge of keeping the peace with the Grounders (the liberty of her having a thing with their Commander) and Caroline decided who got which job and worked with Raven to make radios and get in contact with The Ark.
She was not that thrilled about her mother coming down because, before she got arrested, she was not exactly mother of the year. Still, she felt guilty about the innocent people who were dying up there while there was a safe planet waiting for them.
Caroline let out a sigh and stood up, instantly drawing Raven’s attention to herself. She wiped her sweat off of her face with a rag and placed it down on the table, before saying, “I think that I’m done for today. I have to discuss some stuff with Bellamy.”
Raven snorted and raised an amused eyebrow, her tone taunting. “Oh, I bet. So much for staying away from him.”
The Griffin rolled her eyes at the reminder of her sister’s warning and wordlessly walked out of their work tent. Bellamy was very blunt with his flirting when they weren’t spitting insults at each other and when he wasn’t sleeping with half of the camp. Caroline was slightly annoyed and brushed it off quickly, but Clarke was down-right pissed. Her protective older sister was on and she was quick to tell Caroline how bad of an idea getting involved with Bellamy was. Her lecture was at least five minutes long but Caroline did not listen to a word that she said. She was not stupid. She knew that even flirting with Bellamy was a bad idea, but she was not planning on it. She liked to believe that she had standards.
“Hey, Princess.” Bellamy greeted her when she entered his tent without knocking. “You’re early.”
“No, you just slept in.” Caroline deadpanned while scanning his bare chest with a blank look on her face while he sat on the edge of his makeshift bed. “Some of us have been up and working for hours.”
Okay, yes, Bellamy was an asshole. But he was a hot asshole. If you asked her, she would say that the fact that he was annoying only made him more attractive. But that might just be her daddy issues talking.
He furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “Shit, is it really late?”
“Yeah, it’s almost lunch.” She shrugged and walked across his tent to grab one of his shirts. She absentmindedly threw it on him, silently telling him to get dressed. “I told Wells to let you sleep. You were keeping guard pretty late last night.”
She told herself that it was because he needed his eight hours of sleep if he was going to function properly. He was even more grumpy when he slept for only two hours.
Bellamy’s lips tugged into a grin and then fell open as he let out a dramatic gasp. “Was that you being nice?” She rolled her eyes and he was quick to add, “I’m sorry, I only ever saw you being nice to Clarke and Wells. Is it snowing outside?”
“Shut up.” Caroline muttered, her eyes involuntarily flickering toward his hands. “Just get dressed. We have work to do.”
He grabbed the blue shirt that she gave him but made no move to put it on. He simply raised a knowing eyebrow. “Are you sure that you want me to do that? You don’t want to keep checking me out?”
Caroline felt heat rushing to her face. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but no words came out and she was desperately trying to find something to say. A couple of seconds later, she simply blurted out, “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that good looking.”
His smirk only grew. “Oh, so I’m not that good looking?” He stepped closer and she wished that the ground would swallow her whole. “I knew you liked me, Princess.”
“You wish,” She shot back, but made no move to step away from him. His scent was intoxicating and she could not look away from his face. His dark eyes were flickering between her eyes and her lips and she swore that they only got darker when her breath hitched.
Bellamy lifted his hand to brush some of her hair away from the face and he licked his lips, an action that only made her stare at his lips longer. He pushed his face closer to her own and just as he was about to lock their lips together, Wells’ voice rang through the air.
“Bellamy, did you take my─” He cut himself off when he looked up from the ground to see his best friend standing inappropriately close to the guy that she hated for months. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he silently looked back and forth between the two of them for a couple of moments. He swallowed and awkwardly croaked out, “I’ll come back later. Or never. Probably never.”
Caroline watched the place he was standing at a couple of seconds ago in shock. She quickly stepped away from Bellamy and cleared her throat. “Get dressed and meet me in the map tent.”
Bellamy watched her leave the tent in a rush and chuckled to himself the second she left.
-
Caroline wished that they could simply work in silence, each on their own side of the tent. After what happened earlier that morning, the last thing that she needed was to spent the next couple of hours before lunch with Bellamy. Especially because he seemed completely unfazed. If anything, his amusement only grew every time he would catch her staring at him which would lead to her having to look away or narrow her eyes into a glare to seem annoyed rather than flustered.
He saw right through her. That might be the reason why she hated him so much. She had always tried to keep her walls up as high as possible because she was afraid of letting people in. But Bellamy could read her like an open book.
“We should move Jasper from the gate and get Miller there.” Caroline suggested as she leaned over the map of their camp. “I love him to death but he runs at the first sight of danger. There is no one better than Miller. I trust him to stay there more than anyone.”
Bellamy surprised her by shaking his head. Her eyebrows furrowed. Was Miller not his best friend? “Guarding the gate is a big responsibility, yes, but it’s also dangerous. The guards there are usually the first to go. We have to put someone disposable there.”
Caroline let out a humorless laugh and looked at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? No one in this camp is disposable. We put the most competent person there, no matter how much either one of us cares about him.”
The Blake shrugged. “I don’t know if losing him is worth it.”
“And losing someone else is?” She retorted and stepped away from the table and scoffed. “I cannot believe you. You talk shit about The Ark, Jaha and the privileged for sending us here and labeling us as disposable but you are not any different. For some reason, those kids out there trust you but you are willing to sacrifice any of them if it means saving your ass and the two people you care about.”
Bellamy clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing with anger the second that she compared him to the monsters that killed his mother and locked up his sister. He stepped closer to her and glared down at her. “Stop pretending that you know me, Princess. You can’t psychoanalyze everyone in your life just because of one decision they make.”
Caroline glared back at him, not intimidated. “And you can judge people based on who their parents are? That’s ironic. I would not be surprised if you were planning to tell me that I should guard the gate since you clearly hate me so much. Putting me there is the easiest way to get rid of me, right?”
“Maybe I do hate you?” His words made her falter in surprise. “How can I not? You always have something to say about every decision I make. You take every opportunity to argue with me. Whenever I think that we are starting to see eye to eye, you do another thing to drive me crazy. And I hate myself for it a lot more than I hate you because despite you being everything that I’m against I still…” Bellamy did not finish his sentence and simply stared at the clueless look on her face. After a couple of seconds of silence, he muttered, “Fuck it.”
Caroline stumbled back in surprise which led to her sitting on the desk. Before she got the chance to kiss him back, he pulled away. His breath fanned across her lips and he stared at her, trying to find any hint of disgust or hesitance. He did not find any. But this time, she was the one that kissed him. She gripped his shirt to keep him closer while one of his hands tangled in her hair. Her breath hitched when he used his grip on her cair to pull her head down in order to reveal her neck. He did not think twice before he messily started placing open-mouthed kisses over her exposed collar bone.
She moaned and spread her legs so he could comfortably stand between them. His other hand found her waist and she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling on his curls lightly to spur him on. He pushed down her shirt to reveal her bra so he could keep sucking hickies down to her breats. The hand on her waist squeezed it and he paused, squeezing his eyes shut to get it together.
“Did you─ did you ever have sex?” Bellamy asked,his dark eyes practically piercing through her soul.
Caroline’s eyes almost softened at the genuine worry in his voice. He was grounded enough to ask the eighteen year old, who spent the last six years of her life locked up, if she was a virgin or not. Luckily, after Clarke broke Wells’ heart, she was more than fine with being his rebound to keep her mind off of other things.
She rapidly nodded, tugging at his shirt so he could get back to what he was doing before.
“Words, Caroline,”
Caroline. Not Princess or Baby Griffin. Just Caroline.
“Yes.” She breathed out. “I had sex before. Now stop being so uncharacteristically considerate and kiss me.”
Bellamy did not need to be told twice. He leaned back down to kiss her and her hands quickly found their way around his neck to pull him closer to her despite them already being chest-to-chest. His tongue slipped into her mouth and easily won the short battle for dominance.
Caroline placed her hands on his chest to push him away. He gave her a confused look which disappeared when she pulled her shirt over her head. He smirked and then copied her actions, exposing his chest. This time, she shamelessly checked him out.
Bellamy was pleasantly surprised when she reached down to pull his pants down along with his underwear. Her hand wrapped around his dick and started to slowly move her hand up and down, almost as if she was teasing him. He let out a low groan and leaned his hands on either side of her. He rested his forehead against hers and kept his eyes on her as she jerked him off.
“Fuck, Princess.” He cursed, his breath hitching. He was ashamed of how close he was just from her jerking him off.
He pulled her hand away and just as she was about to ask him what he was doing, he pulled her off of the desk in order to pull her hands down. He wrapped his arms around her thighs to place her back on the table and she gasped in surprise when his fingers slipped between her legs. His fingers teased her opening until she was whining into his mouth.
“Don’t tease.”
He chuckled and dipped one of his fingers inside of her. “Patience.”
She did not argue and simply leaned back, letting him pump his fingers in and out of her while he rubbed her clit. She moaned his name lowly, aware that if they were too loud, the others outside could hear them. Bellamy almost moaned at the sight of the girl squirming and trying her hardest to stay quiet on the table. The girl who never kept her mouth shut and was a force to be reckoned with was completely at his mercy.
Before Caroline could finish, he pulled his hand away. She panted and gave him a weak glare. “You’re a dick,”
“I didn’t hear you arguing when you were moaning my name.” He shot back and cupped her ass to bring their bodies closer together. He wrapped one of his hands around his dick and slid inside of her. He let out a deep groan and she let out a high pitchen moan due to his lack of patience. Bellamy placed one of his hands over her mouth and whispered, “Be quiet for me, Princess. You don’t want the rest of the camp to hear how much you hate me, do you?”
She shook her head and her eyes rolled to the back of her head when he pulled out and roughly pushed back inside her. He was no better than her. He was cursing and groaning as she rolled her hips back into his own.
They spent a couple of minutes like that, soaking in pleasure and the thrill that they got from the fact that anyone could walk into the tent at any minute. “I’m close.” He muttered and used the hand that was not covering her mouth to rub her clit in order to get her closer to the edge.
Caroline’s nails dug into his shoulders and the moaned against his hand, almost reaching her peak. He groaned at the pain and only snapped his hips against her faster. Her vision blurred and her eyes squeezed shut when she finally fell over the edge and came around him. Her walls squeezing him like a vice was what pushed him over the edge and he was quick to pull out and finish on her stomach.
Caroline panted and leaned her forehead against his chest when his hand fell from her mouth.
"So much for hating me, huh, Princess?"
She groaned. "Clarke is gonna kill me."
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ms-demeanor · 3 months
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Hey! I appreciate your perspective on computer-based things. I think I need to get a laptop and would love your opinion on decent brands. If you don't have an opinion or want to answer please disregard the q.
Context: I'm often on the move and really want something small, light, and that will last a long time. I'm bad about buying new things or taking things to be fixed so ideally it's not something that dies quickly or needs frequent repairs. For a while I used an iPad for this but I need more of a keyboard than tablets have and the shelf life of an iPad is shorter than it should be for the cost. Mine is 7 years old and only works while plugged in... I liked my Macbook Pro I got for college but it's almost 15 years old and given I haven't needed a new one since I don't think spending all that on a Mac makes sense either. I use a gaming PC mostly but I'm going to need to travel a lot more in the upcoming year. I'm ok to spend up a bit since I want it to last.
I think you're going to have to adjust your expectations about the average functional lifespan of electronics. Seven years is a lot to get out of any tablet and fifteen years is way way way above average for a computer.
At work we estimate that the functional lifespan of a laptop will be around five years and the functional life of a desktop will be around seven years; we include upgrades in that lifespan, like adding RAM and storage.
It is not *unusual* to get more than five years out of a laptop or seven years out of a desktop, but if you are a heavy user of anything other than a browser and a word processor, that's about the time when you'll find that the computer feels slow enough to be frustrating. This isn't a hard limit, and it's not something that everyone experiences because people use computers differently, but if you're an artist and you use a drawing program that program will start to feel slow after a while because as updates and patches and drivers have been tweaked for newer devices they've slowly left your device in the dust.
This isn't planned obsolescence, by the way. Computer manufacturers try to "future proof" their devices to a certain extent, but you just can't anticipate certain kinds of changes. Maybe your laptop was manufactured before there were consumer SSDs available so its operating system doesn't take the advantages and limitations of SSDs into account. Maybe your desktop was built for DDR3 RAM and we're now on DDR5 and people aren't writing programs to the standard of the old technology, they're taking advantage of the standards of the new technology.
Since you were able to use your devices comfortably for such a long time, it sounds like you're not a very heavy user and don't need to worry too much about beefing up your specs. However it does sound like you want to keep your computer and use it as long as possible while paying a reasonable price for it (which is good! I think we should all try to extend the lives of our electronic devices as much as possible!).
I actually think you sound like a good match for a Framework laptop.
Framework is a company that makes laptops that are a lot more modular than what's on the market these days. They're mean to be easy to open up for upgrades and sturdy for heavy use. Most of the parts of the laptop are easily replaceable - including the screen - so you can use them for a long time and easily make upgrades that will help the computer feel fresher.
They're a bit more expensive than comparable PCs but much easier to repair if you aren't comfortable opening up your own computer (framework is intentionally built to be easy for people who are non-technical to work on their computers), and they are a LOT less expensive than comparable macs.
I still think you're probably looking at around 7 years of regular use out of a Framework and it won't *break* at that point, it will just. Probably be a bit slow and frustrating. You might not be able to get parts for it after a certain point. You eventually won't be able to upgrade the OS. But that's true of all computers.
I've still got my 2005 macbook. It still turns on, I can still use garage band on it. But it doesn't connect to the internet and uses such an old USB standard that it is extremely slow to transfer data on or off of and it cries and freezes if i try to use photoshop. It's not broken, it's just no longer useful as a daily computer.
What I'm defining as functional here is "Is able to run multiple programs (including at least one browser with 50+ tabs open and two office suites) at the same time for 8-10 hours a day without crashing, freezing, or losing data and restarting is not a major inconvenience."
In those terms, it does sound like you're probably in need of an upgrade (I can't imagine that your current machine is particularly quick) and I think that a framework laptop would suit your needs well.
If you're looking for something somewhat less expensive, you can generally find a decent thinkbook with a 12th or 13th gen i5 processor, 16GB RAM, and a 500GB SSD for around $700-ish, which is the low end of what I think you're going to pay for a decent laptop. I'm reccing lenovo here because I personally like them and have found them to be very easy to crack open for repairs and upgrades. Stick to the thinkbook over the thinkpad because that's the business line and is a bit sturdier and they are designed to be easier to upgrade over time.
Actually, here's a thinkbook with a 12th gen i5, 40GB RAM, and a 1tb SSD for under $700. That's a shockingly good price for that laptop; the reseller OEMGenuine is one I've purchased from many times before for work and I've found them to be reliable, though the reason those specs are so good is because they've added aftermarket parts, so your RAM and SSD won't be under warranty from Lenovo.
For Framework you're looking at at least $1000, but it's easy to plug and play with upgrades so you can start out with lower specs (except processor, don't cheap out on the processor) and upgrade later. The framework is a bit smaller and easier to travel with, but I have a laptop quite similar to the lenovo and it's not a huge pain to move around - it's very light but the 15" screen might be bigger than you're looking for.
If you're willing to spend a little bit more and you're very uninterested in doing your own upgrades and would prefer the most computer you can get for your money right out of the gate, this is a 12th gen i7 thinkpad with 40GB RAM and a 2TB SSD for $1150. (I've not ordered from this reseller before, so maybe check over their terms if you're considering purchasing from them.)
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duhnova · 1 year
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ride slow - lee seokmin, choi seungcheol
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happiest birthday ever to the loml, the most amazingest wife ever, and to my soulmate!! i hope today is as amazing and as wonderful as you are and I’m so very happy and thankful that you came into my life and i couldn’t ever imagine a world without you. i hope you enjoy one of many presents (as you deserve it) and I hope that today is everything you wished for and more - and if it isn’t I will make the world pay. anyways to keep this from being to long and sappy (don’t worry i’ve already said everything i wanted too in dm’s) happiest birthday ever my love (my dear, my bbygorl, my sunshine, my melody)!! MWAH!!! ( everyone go wish her a happy birthday rn >:( !!!!!! ) @onlyseokmins
warning(s): smut under the cut (mdni!!), reader and seokmin are tied up, dick riding, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is called baby and princess, let me know if i forgot anything! - don’t mind grammatical errors/typos (i tried)
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“cheollie.” you gasp quietly, your head leant back against his shoulder as his fingers dig into your hips. he’s moving them in slow circular motions, helping you ride seokmin who’s currently tied to the bed frame.
“what’s wrong baby?” he coos quietly, he pushes your hips down harder drawing a loud moan from the both of you.
“more.” you manage to breathe out, your fingers twitching from where they’re tied behind your back with a soft silk ribbon that seungcheol made into a bow so that you looked like a present.
“more? is this not enough for you?” he fake pouts as he moves your hips slower than before.
“cheol it’s her birthday.” seokmin sounded breathless, the pace was excruciatingly slow and he found himself on the brink of cumming so many times but you would beg for more and seungcheol would rip both of your releases away.
“oh is it now? last time i checked it’s still eleven forty-eight.” he looks at the clock in the bedside table.
“early birthday present?” seokmin whined a little, trying to fight for both of your releases.
“early birthday present?” cheol scoffs quietly as he looks at seokmin with raised eyebrows, a mischievous smirk on his face. “do you really think i’m that nice?” you whimper quietly when he noses against the side of your head to kiss gently at your ear before nipping it gently.
“cheol,” you whimper, wiggling your hips a little causing seokmin to arch his back and moan. “please.”
“please what?” he growls and pushes your hips down hard to keep you from moving.
“please let us cum, please.” you babble as you dig your knees deeper into the bed to try and move only for seungcheol to overpower you - his hands definitely leaving prints in your hips, especially after he lands two harsh smacks to both of them.
“you only get to cum on your birthday princess.” he starts to rock your hips while keeping you and seokmin pinned together so neither of you could move on your own.
“fuck,” seokmin hisses as he throws his head back, his long fingers wrapping around the silk rope that’s preventing him from touching you. “i’m gonna cum.”
“no the fuck you’re not.” seungcheol stops moving your hips again, the both of you gasping and whining at the loss of friction.
he waits a couple minutes, watching the clock until it strikes eleven fifty-five before he starts moving you again. both of your orgasms had died down enough for the build up to last a little longer as he stares intensely at the time, he moves you faster the closer it gets to midnight.
“you wanna cum baby?” he finally looks at you, your eyes closed and your mouth open as you babble out a quiet ‘yes’ between breathy moans. he looks back at the clock, his lips twitching up into a smile when it finally hits midnight. “you can cum.” he whispers before kissing your ear again. your loud moans overpower seokmins whines as you finally cum after hours of torturous edging.
the feeling of your plush walls squeezing seokmins cock cause him to go over the edge with you, filling you up with his cum. slowly seungcheol brings your hips to a stop, your body completely lax against his.
“happy birthday princess.” he smiles as he kisses your cheek before tilting your head to kiss your lips softly.
“happy birthday baby.” seokmin breathlessly echoes as he watches you two through hooded eyes.
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happy elv day!!
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sstan-hoe · 1 year
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◇ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 ◇
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𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — vampire!bucky barnes × human!fem!reader
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — you're his angel and he will love you for eternity, he does everything for you...it's time to return the favour
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — oral (m receiving), throat fucking, Bucky being just hot by making sounds, light praise kink, a bit mean Bucky?
𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — reblog, comment/follow | this is my first fic for the June-iverse Event and I'm very excited!!! I really wanted this to be good and hope its not a total flop! I had the words Shop, Angel, Vampire and Rich. I didn't really know what to do with shop so it's just there haha | would have posted earlier but couldn't find the email! stupid spam folder
𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 — Alternate June–iverse | @buckybarnesevents
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You twireld around in your white summer dress with a joyful giggle, it was one of your favourites and made you feel light on your feet.
The warm breeze flowed around you making a cosy feeling spread through your body. A few butterflies crossed your path, dancing along the sunbeams that let the world look healthier.
Bucky sat a little further away, watching you closely. Every move you made had his heart beating – if it could.
Once your gaze met Bucky everything went still, he looked powerful sitting in a black garden armchair. It seemed out of place with the setting of nature around it, but it suited your man’s dark demeanour.
Legs spread wide apart, body leaning back into the armchair as he rested his chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His eyes never left your body, you looked care free as if no one could do a thing to you – they couldn’t, Bucky made sure of it. All his mind could think about was what he did to deserve you.
Being alive for five hundred years and he never came across a woman like you, an angel. He loved calling you, his Angel.
You came and pulled him from the darkness, made the life he lived make sense. With you by his side he didn’t mind living forever, he would love you for eternity and that included if you died and he still had to live.
He tries avoiding that scenario and instead gently guides you into the life of being a vampire. It took him a while to adjust to the thought of turning you, becoming a vampire was a big decision to make and he wasn’t sure if you understood that. This was the reason why he wouldn’t turn you until you were at least twenty-five.
Back to the moment, you had broken Bucky from his thoughts as you skipped over to him, “what do you think?” you asked refereeing to the dress you wore.
“Mhm, I quite like it...easy access,” he purred, hands grasping your waist to draw you into his lap. The cool fingertips of his metal hand grazed your soft skin, a light shudder rolling down your spine.
You swatted his hand away which caused him to grip your chin with his flesh hand, “are you denying me what belongs to me?” he cocked his head to the side as if to challenge you.
“This dress is brand new, and I will not have you make it messy,” you scolded him playfully.
“Remind me, Angel, who bought this dress?” Bucky asked innocently, however his blue eyes betrayed him. You knew exactly how much he loved spending his money on you, most of the time without even asking if you wanted something. He just bought it.
Rolling your eyes, you leaned back against his chest with a smile, “oh, well then I guess, I have to buy my dresses myself in the future…,” you knew how much Bucky disliked it if you bought something with your own money.
His eyes darkened, hands moving to your stomach as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. “Do that and I will have to punish you,” he whispered tickling you.
You squirmed with a squeak, “stop it!” trying to rip yourself from his grip on you. Bucky chuckled and continued tickling your sides, “I don’t think so, my little Angel,” he smirked teasingly. A wholehearted laugh escaped you at the feeling, squirming in his arms again, “Bucky, please,” you breathed out.
Bucky’s heart grew everytime he heard your angelic voice, his angel. Your laugh, your voice, something he would never get tired of hearing. He stopped and went to caress your clothed covered skin.
As you recovered from the torture of your love, Bucky had snaked his right arm under your knees to pick you up. With a surprised sound you were lifted and carried inside the house.
He walked with you into the bedroom, laying you onto the bed. His hands sneaked underneath your dress, but you sat up and stopped his hands. Confusion was written all over Bucky’s features, wondering if he did something wrong however you excited smile told him otherwise.
You slide towards him and his hand, pushing him back a little so you could stand up and guide him to replace you on the bed. Bucky sat down, hand still resting in yours as you got on your knees in front of him.
Oh, now he knew where this was going. His cock strained against his dress pants, you let go of his hand and moved it to stay on his side.
You trailed your fingers up to his belt which you unbuckled easily, fingertips stroking his covered cock. Bucky hissed at feeling, you barley gave him any fraction and he was already this responsive.
“Today, I want to return the favour and devour you,” voice just above a whisper had his member twitching. It should be a crime how sexy you were to him, a hoarse groan leaving his lips, “mhm, what a good Angel I have…then devour me,” a hint of begging danced at the edge of his voice, covered by the command.
Pulling his briefs down his hard cock sprang against Bucky’s abdomen, the few drops of pre-cum staining the blood-red dress shirt.
Your tongue darted out lick the pre-cum from his mushroom formed tip, the brunette drove his flesh hand into your hair trying to suppress the urge to shove his cock down your throat.
A smile spread across your face at his reaction, you let him take over the reign soon but not yet. Licking a long stripe along his length, you could taste the light saltiness which had you thriving.
The hand in your hair didn’t hinder you in teasing Bucky, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Gently stroking up and down, a way to feel every popping vein. One thick vein popped out, practically asking you to lick it.
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned as he felt your tongue on the sensitive vein, hand gripping your roots.
You hissed at the sudden tightness in your hair, but damn did it feel good. You didn’t want Bucky to lose his grip on your hair hence why you closed your mouth over his angry tip.
At first, you gave him a few kitten licks before taking him completely down your throat – or trying to take him. His cock wasn’t particularly long but thick, it was difficult fitting all of it inside your mouth. You couldn’t take him any further down, a gagging noise erupting from your throat in protest.
The feeling of his tip hitting your maw had him moaning and his sounds encouraging you to try and take more of him. Never in your life did something turn you on as much as his noises he made while you gave him pleasure.
It was over for Bucky. He took control over you. His hand spreading over your scalp, gently massaging it before yanking your head back and taking you by surprise in the process.
“Enough of that little Angel, it’s time I take control,” the vampires voice was hoarse, you wouldn’t do anything to disobey him. Firstly, he guided his guided you back up to look into your eyes, they were filled with hunger and the need to be controlled.
This was the last soft eyes you received from Bucky before he had your head shoved down on his cock again. All the way down which tears to spring from your eyes, “fuck, show me those pretty tears,” he let his head fall back in pleasure.
He didn’t let you lift your head, instead he let you choke on his cock. A loud gagging sound ringing through the walls as he rolled his hips up.
The vibrations of your cries sending him closer to his high, “choke on my cock, little Angel,” Bucky purred as he kept his cock pressed against your throat. God, he wished he could stay in the warmth of your mouth forever, buried deep inside.
However, he was near his orgasm, he had to make a decision. Gently he thrusts your head up and down his hardened length. “You’re such a beauty when you suck my cock,” he praised you in a soft tone. Soon his pace picked up and drool escaped your mouth as you couldn’t control it anymore.
“God, I’m coming,” Bucky grunted moving his hips to meet his thrusts. You felt his cock twitch against your tongue, his release would drop over the edge every second.
Even though you were his angel, you could be a little devil especially when it came to teasing him. You hollowed your cheeks around him, a deep groan flowing past Bucky’s lips. As the grip on your head tightened you knew how close he was and what would tip him over.
While he desperately fucked your throat you sucked on the mushroom formed head. Bucky came, all over your tongue. Gasping and groaning as he watched you swallow all of him.
You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you, his sounds just felt different and had you clenching your thighs pathetically.
“Take it, take all of it Angel,” his metal hand came up to rest against your cheek as he slowly lifted your head from his cock. “Swallow,” was all he said, looking deep into your eyes and without hesitation swallowed the slightly salty yet sweet semen of Bucky.
A drop almost falls from the corner of your mouth, but Bucky swiped it away with his thumb. Laying his digit onto your tongue to give you every last piece of him.
After a delightful moan from you had Bucky thriving with pride. “Did such a good job, Angel,” you sat up onto his lap, his cock hardening again, “but I’m not finished with you...still have to make a mess of this dress I bought.”
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𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑻𝑾𝑶 — @smile1318 @wintasssoldier @xcaptain-winterx @georgiapeach30513 @alina02 @jobean12-blog @broadwaybabe18 @waddlenut @buckymcu12 @witchybabel @daemonslittlebitch
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | I do have a taglist however it has conditions that must be followed — you can follow @sstanhoe-updates for updated without anything
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year
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Hi! I just recently got into RoR. (Buddha is my favorite lol, he's so chill)
Can I request RoR characters reactions to meeting child!reader? Like they got summoned by accident?
I completely agree with you, of all the characters we've met so far (both in the manga and anime), Buddha is easily my favorite.
-You couldn’t seem to find anyone in this large place that you woke up in, it was almost like a castle, and you could hear lots of people cheering, but you couldn’t find anyone.
-You hear nearby voices and you quickly trot over and peek around the corner, seeing an open door and you head over, hearing the voices getting louder.
-You push the door open and the room goes dead quiet, seeing you there as you blink, a bit confused before you hear a woman, “What is a child doing here?”
-Loki approaches you and kneels, a bit wary as you were by yourself, “Hey there, who are you?” You beam brightly up at him, “I’m Y/N! I woke up in a big room after taking a nap!” he picked you up under your arms, pulling you up before turning and you found yourself faced with a room full of people, gods on one side and humans on the other.
-You had interrupted a meeting about the next Ragnarok tournament that was starting shortly, it made for such good entertainment the first time that everyone who died was brought back and they were going to bring in new warriors to fight, gladiator style, but if you died, you were brought back at the end of the tournament.
-Brunnhilde took you from Loki and you smiled, “Pretty! You’re so pretty big sister!” she turned, so none would she her blushing as she cooed, hugging you, “You’re so cute Y/N!!” you laugh and squeal at her affections before she sat you down.
-Tesla kneeled to greet you, “Hello Y/N, you said you woke up in a room? What did it look like?” you put a finger to your mouth, pondering for a moment, “It was big and round and had lots of black drawings on the ground!”
-Everyone froze, that was the summoning room, to summon the different fighters from the different pantheons, they had no idea how a child was summoned instead.
-Adam gave you the best hug you think you ever had in your life! He was so warm and just had this dad aura around him that just made him so huggable.
-The room was deathly silent when you were on Odin’s lap, smiling up at his ravens, “I like your pretty birds!” his chuckle is what calmed everyone down before Zeus spoke, “Y/N, how old are you?” you beam, holding up your hand, showing all five fingers up, “This many!” several of the people in the room collapsed to their knees, holding their chest over their hearts, unable to handle the cuteness.
-You found yourself on Raiden’s shoulders, your eyes sparkly, “I’m so high up!! Will I get tall like you if I drink lots of milk?!” your question was adorable as he grinned, even if you weren’t able to see it, “Of course! With lots of milk, rest, and exercise, you can become the strongest person here!”
-Your fists lifted to the sky, hearing your new goal, “The strongest!!” which caused round two of cute attacks that sent people to their knees.
-You had quickly become their favorite person, all of them, even Poseidon as you started nodded off while hugging him, which was a bit awkward looking, as he didn’t do hugs, but once on his lap, you felt so comfortable that you couldn’t help but doze off and in his heart, he knew that he would murder anyone who would try to hurt you.
-You were summoned on accident, but that accident led you to your new family, a massive one of all sorts of different humans and gods, and that family was going to spoil and love you until the end of time!!
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psychedelic-ink · 9 months
Text
𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇
pairing: frankie morales x f!reader
genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, romance, minors dni
word count: 1.6k
summary: you have trouble sleeping after your favorite character's death. luckily frankie is there to help.
warnings: established relationship, grief, brief sleepy makeout, sexual situations but none explicit, mention of a past altercation between a sleaze bag and you at a bar
a/n: yes, I am so lonely that when my fave fictional character dies I need to write something with another fictional character comforting me ✌️
Also, the character or the book won't be mentioned so as not to spoil anyone who might read the book and I feel like it makes it more inclusive not to mention it either. But if you're curious about which book just send me an ask 💜
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You’re way too sensitive, you conclude staring at the dark ceiling. There’s no reason you should be tossing and turning like a mad person over a fictional character’s death—scratch that, your favorite character’s death. The “favorite” part is most likely the main reason as to why whenever you close your eyes you repeat the scene in your head over and over, like a sick lullaby that did the opposite of lulling you into sleep. 
A soft summer breeze gently drifts through the open window, rustling the curtains with a tender touch. The sheer fabric sways lazily, as if in a dreamlike dance, while the cool moonlight peeks through the gaps, casting gentle shadows on the floor. For a moment, you see the muted blue of the sky, and, for a moment, you want to get up and just stare at the stars. 
But you don’t. Instead, you turn for the hundredth time tonight and stare at Frankie’s back. He’s sleeping peacefully. Unaware of your sleeplessness driven by an irrational feeling. You count the freckles on his back. One. . . two. . . five. . . you want to press your lips between his shoulder blades. 
With another sigh, you turn towards the window again. You’re restless. So tired, yet sleep, the cruel mistress that she is, only taunts you. You try closing your eyes, try to think of something—anything else but it’s no use. Opening your eyes, you stare at the curtains. You think about the characters in your book, about how they could’ve done something differently to prevent the death of your favorite. You also think about what the aftermath might be since you haven’t read that far yet. 
You sigh, again. 
And Frankie stirs. 
He mumbles something in spanish, voice nothing but gravel. You make a sound, or maybe you voiced out a one-syllable question, you don’t remember but whatever you’ve done, he understands and rolls around. His arm slides to your waist, fingers softly drawing various shapes over your stomach. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you answer in a sharp whisper, guilt already gnawing at the soft flesh of your stomach. “Sorry.”
“You didn’t wake me, I was peeing in my dream and got worried it might be happening for real,” your sudden laughter is loud, the type that shakes your chest. His lips touch your nape and you feel him smiling as he playfully squeezes your stomach. “Now tell me what’s wrong, querida. I want to know.” 
“You’re going to laugh. . .” 
“I won’t,” he says in one exhale. “Promise.” 
His hand slides up under your shirt, resting on the underside of your breasts. With a hum, you press closer to him, wanting to feel his warmth enveloping your own. He kisses the sensitive skin under your ear. A shudder rolls through you. “Fine,” you say. “My favorite character died in the book I’m reading.” 
“I’m sorry to hear that, baby,” you hear it in his voice, the smile, the amusement. You huff half-heartedly, gently nudging him with your elbow. 
“I knew you were going to laugh.” 
“I’m not laughing!” he interjects, then nuzzles your neck. “I just think it’s cute how you care so much.” 
“Now I just feel silly,” you mutter. It does feel a bit stupid that you’re saying it out loud now. Though, it’s not like you didn’t know it was a dumb thing to begin with. Only now it’s downing on you exactly who you’re admitting this grief to; A veteran. Someone who has actually stared death in the eyes and lived through it. If you had known your brain would behave like this you wouldn’t have read your book before bed, Frankie was already fast asleep by then. 
He softly croons, “Why were they your favorite?” 
Frankie is completely unaware of the weight that lingers in your head, screaming at you to just tell him to forget about it. You fight against it. He’s not mocking you, he’s asking you questions about it, he’s interested. Frankie Morales might be one of the most understanding people you know. You inhale a slow breath, your shoulders relaxing on the exhale. 
“I’m not actually sure,” you answer with a soft chuckle. “They were kind of the one holding everything together, at least that’s what I felt. They were kind, nice, extroverted.” 
“Did you see yourself in them?” 
“Not exactly,” you chew your bottom lip. “I guess it was more like they were someone I wanted to be like. And I have an affinity for kind people. They were just about to get their happy ending too, and it could’ve been avoided, if they were only more selfish.” 
“Reminds me of someone I know,” he smiles. 
“I’m not that nice, Frankie.” you can’t help but smile alongside him.
He clicks his tongue, “Don’t you remember the time a guy was hitting on some girl and you intervened when I was in the toilet? When I came back he had you by the neck, the fucking asshole.” 
You do remember that night. You and Frankie had just started going out, it was either your third or fourth date. He’d gone to the bathroom and as you were waiting at the bar some creep made a move on a woman who was sitting a couple of seats away from you. The man started getting handsy which prompted you to step in, you didn’t think he would get so violent. Briefly, you thought he was going to throw you over the bar. Luckily before the worst could happen Frankie stepped in, bending the man’s arm and shoving him down to the dirty floors. Frankie was a regular at the bar, there were no questions asked. 
However, he was quite angry with you, much to your surprise. In the end, the night had ended with him between your legs, edging you until you cried for him, apologized between sobs. It was a different kind of release, one that you had enjoyed. 
You can still hear the anger in his voice though, the irritation. Without a word you turn, cupping his cheeks as you attempt to wipe away the crease between his brows. “What else was I supposed to do? He was being a jerk.” 
“You could’ve come and get me. You could’ve gone and gotten Benny and Will, you knew they were there.” 
“Baby. . .” 
He heaves a resigned sigh, lips finding the heel of your palm, the hairs tickling your skin, “Fine, sorry.” 
You inch closer, pressing your mouths gently together. He groans into your mouth, large hands grasping your waist. You lick yourself deeper into his mouth. The rock of his hips eager to meet yours, parting away, you grin at how disheveled he looks; hooded eyes, parted swollen lips, a soft red tint to his cheeks. You kiss him again, quickly this time before parting away. 
“You know,” you say. “When my favorite character died in books I would kiss my fingers,” you demonstrate by kissing two fingers gently. “Then I would press them over the character's name,” and you press your fingers against his lips, a smile forming on your face. “I’d say ‘You’re not dead, you’re alive’ and I would just continue reading. Once I told this to my friend and she said it was unhealthy because I wasn’t processing death properly.” 
He remains silent, his lips gently meeting the touch of your fingers.
“I don’t know why but her saying that bothered me,” your voice falls into a whisper, your gaze dropping to where his mouth and your fingers meet. “It made me feel broken. Wrong. I don’t know why I’m still thinking about it, after all this time. But I guess my relationship with death has always been crooked. I don’t think I react normally. Maybe that’s why I’m so upset now. I keep thinking of it. Maybe I’m just trying to make up for the silence I showed in the past.” 
“Define normal,” he challenges, pulling your hand away. You spread your fingers across the expanse of his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I don't want to play the veteran card, but I've witnessed numerous people grieving, and each instance was vastly different. Some remained silent for weeks, while others screamed and lashed out. And some. . . looked for alternative means to help them forget." He presses your foreheads together, his nose brushing against yours. He still has trouble admitting that side of himself to you. "You're not broken for dealing with it in your own way."
Your breath catches in your throat, tears building in your eyes. You’re not sure why though. Some part of you has been dying to hear those words, to hear that you’re normal, that you’re not some emotionally constipated—or overly emotional—person. Finally, finally, someone is there to hold you without you having to ask them to. Frankie’s there, deep brown eyes boring into yours as he pulls you impossibly close. You feel your bottom lip starting to quiver. A sudden, odd, choked-out sound reverberates in your throat and he smiles. He captures your bottom lip between his teeth and kisses you. 
“Mi amor, my sweet girl,” he whispers, the words warming your skin. “You can let it out, I’ll catch you. No matter what. I don’t care if it’s over a fictional death or not, I’m here. Okay?” 
“Okay,” your answer comes out in a whimper, you nuzzle his chest, hands becoming tight fists as hot tears slide down your cheeks. You’re not sure why you’re crying. Are the tears for the unfortunate character in your book? Or is it for finally being understood, to have someone there for you, promising to stay? 
You don’t know. But it doesn’t matter anyway. 
Frankie will be there. 
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starsandhughes · 1 year
Text
Penalty Box— Quinn Hughes Edition (Part Eighteen)
SERIES MASTERLIST
previous: seventeen
next: nineteen
a/n cole mcward is now my baby and i will talk about him any chance i get tysm
THURSDAY, APRIL 6TH
yourusername
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liked by _quinnhughes, canucks, and 8,643 others
yourusername welcome to my postgame penalty box update show: connor mcgregor— i mean, quinny baby edition! tonight, the canucks ended a 133 game streak without a shutout with a 3-0 win! that streak was the longest in franchise history; and demmer ended it!
you know what else ended tonight? you guess it! quintin hughes lost his seven games without a penalty streak tonight in a fight! he got a double roughing minor, and kavtsov sat in the box for his second. personally, a five minute major would have been way more fun, but sadly, i’m not in charge. (i should be!!) he tackled blackhawk andreas athanasiou to the ground, and did NOT release him for a hot minute. AND quinn argued with him in the penalty box, and i would sell jamie to know what he was saying! those smelling salts must have triggered a really strong fight response! he was also grinning like a psychopath after (sound familiar?) and that’s why i love him <3 #TeamUnhingedQuinn
i could talk about this all day, but i do want to give some shoutouts! congrats to kravs (@/kravtsov93) for scoring his first goal as a canuck tonight! and to hirose (@/kithirosee) for getting his first nhl career point with an assist on that goal! lastly, welcome to the team cole mcward! you did great tonight! we might even adopt you! (@/colemcward) what a night for the defensemen!!!
and shoutout to quinn, for being the bestest best friend i could ask for. i love you, but i’d like to see some blood next time💙
tagged _quinnhughes
view all 344 comments
_quinnhughes you want to see me bloody and i’m the psycho??? (i love you, too💙)
trevorzegras we like to use the term “quirky”
yourusername i want you to DRAW blood quintin!! there’s a difference
_quinnhughes @/yourusername why are you critiquing my fight?
yourusername you didn’t even drop gloves!!
_quinnhughes @/yourusername you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit
trevorzegras @_quinnhughes we all know that’s not true
user1 THAT FIGHT WAS SO HOT!! AND THE ARGUING??? I DIED
trevorzegras not mentioned: y/n was in the kitchen when it started and she ran and jumped over the back of the couch and cheered
jamie.drysdale @_quinnhughes for reference, she has tried it multiple times and fell on her ass
_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras and why hasn’t a video of that been sent to the group chat?
trevorzegras @_quinnhughes she gives no warning. we just hear a thud every once in a while and wait for the “i’m okay!”
yourusername i’m not friends with any of you until further notice
user2 quinn’s face post smelling salts>>>
user3 at least the penalty let him not have a 30 minute shift😭
lhughes_06 proud of you bro!! @_quinnhughes
_quinnhughes @/yourusername what did you do to him
yourusername @_quinnhughes i raised him right that’s what. my other child tried to fight tonight, too #MomOfTheYear
lhughes_06 #MomOfTheYear
edwards.73 #MomOfTheYear
jamie.drysdale #WifeyOfTheYear
jackhughes #ExWifeyOfTheYear #SoulmateOfTheYear
_quinnhughes i don’t like any of you
yourusername @_quinnhughes that is false
trevorzegras spider-man reference alert
user4 that’s my future captain!!
colemcward adopt me…?
yourusername i said what i said
_quinnhughes i’ll explain later
kithirosee thank you, y/n!
yourusername you’re ever so welcome!!
user5 #TeamUnhingedQuinn i’m dead lmao
jackhughes what is up with my brothers and getting penalties?
yourusername they love me more than you do
_quinnhughes why do you think i got into that fight?
jackhughes @_quinnhughes for her or over her?
_quinnhughes no comment
kravtsov93 thank you!
yourusername always!
user6 tonight was the best and worst night of my life. devs win 8-1 with two jack goal, canucks shutout and a quinn fight, but team 101 lost :(
jamie.drysdale you can’t proclaim adoption without talking to me first
yourusername i never said you’d be the father
jamie.drysdale BETRAYAL
yourusername cry about it
_alexturcotte oh (alternate) captain, my (alternate) captain
yourusername all hail
_quinnhughes can you feel my eyes roll?
yourusername @_quinnhughes no, try harder
canucks that’s our huggy!!
yourusername huggy bear? more like cocaine bear
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ashtronomyys · 8 months
Text
It happened so fast, Johnny wasn't even sure if he had seen it right. But then a few seconds later, there it was again! A small dot jumped up right above Simon's lip before disappearing. He silently watched the man's face, looking for any acknowledgment behind the mask. But there was none. Simon's eyes continued to scan over the documents he was in the middle of signing off.
Johnny had been sitting on the edge of Simon's bed silently drawing away while the other man worked at his desk. About an hour ago, he decided to switch up his sketches of guns and other paraphernalia and moved on to one of his favorite subjects, Ghost.
The Scotsman would devote himself to mapping out every one of Simon's features. There were pages dedicated to sketches of his hands, his arms, his shoulders, and his back. His eyes and the way light bounced off of his eyelashes.
It was in the middle of one of these sketches, Johnny sneakily glancing over at the lieutenant when the movement caught his eye. Simon's mask was pulled taught over his face. Today's black fabric was a more form-fitting material which allowed him to make out more of Simon's face. The fabric was probably what allowed Johnny to see the movement as the Brit absentmindedly scratched at his chin. He grunted to himself, scratching off a line in the papers and there it was again!
The mask poked up along the corner of his mouth before running across his lips and dropping back down again. It finally clicked for Johnny when the dot was held out in place while Ghost sighed and drew his lips together in a grimace.
Simon stuck his tongue out when he was concentrating.
It took everything in Johnny not to giggle the next time he saw his lieutenant's tongue dart out across his upper lip. It must not have been enough because Simon looks up from his paper for the first time in an hour and shoots him a sideway glance.
"Something funny, Sergeant?"
Johnny tries to play it cool, hopes Simon doesn't note the way he freezes in his stare. "No....was just admiring the view, tha's all."
Simon's eyes narrow into a glare. With another sigh he drops his pen down on the table and spins his chair around to face him. "Alright, c'mon MacTavish. Out with it. What's on your mind?"
Awh crap. He's really in for it now. "And how do ye know I-"
"Johnny, you and I both know that at this point, we know each other inside and out. I can /SEE/ that you have something spinning around in that head of yours." He gestures to his forehead, rotating his fingers around imitating a cog wheel turning. "So out with it. I know you're itching to say something and I can't focus on my work until you've got it outta your system."
Well, if this is how he dies, let it be known that John "Soap" MacTavish died a soldier's death. Valiantly going where no man dared to cross before. He'll leave behind a legacy of bravery, dedication, and sacrifice.
"You know ye lick yer lips when you're concentrating?"
...
.....
"Fuuucking hell Johnny..." Simon drags his hands over his face, stopping to rub circles at his temple. "Is that what you were so focused on?" he asks, with amusement dripping into his voice.
"Well I was just surprised by it!"
"You're unbelievable."
"What?! I think it's endearing! I just couldn't tell what I was looking at with the mask." He pauses, considering his next question before going forward with it anyway. "Do ye taste yer mask when ye do tha'?"
"Alright, that's enough of that Johnny," he barks out. Simon turns back to his paperwork.
Part of Johnny worries that he may have made him feel self-conscious. But he sneaks another glance at the man, and he can see the telltale sign of a smile playing on his lips. The crinkle in his eye and the deep, low rumble of a laugh as he shakes his head let's him know it's fine. A smile starts to form on Johnny's own face. He opens his journal and flips back to the sketch he was working on.
And not five minutes later, he spots that tongue dart out again. And he absolutely puts everything he has into capturing it on paper.
....................
I'm still pretty new to writing so please excuse any errors. I felt inspired after watching Samuel Roukin's livestream yesterday. I love giving characters benign ticks and I am now a firm believer that Ghost also flicks his tongue out when he's concentrating.
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teacasket · 1 month
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dead or alive
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genre: angst au: cowboy au, western au warnings: guns, one instance of an animal being hurt, mentions of drinking and gambling, swearing, violence word count: 0.7k   pairing: gn!reader x lee felix a/n: happy valentine’s day?
“You sure this is the right place?” Felix asks as he lands gently onto the ground. His horse whinnies, and he absentmindedly shushes it as he surveys the dilapidated house and the rotting wooden fence around it. “Looks empty.”
“You think Killer Bill would hide his fortune in a saloon or something?” you say as you slide off your own horse. “You’re dumber than I thought.”
He shrugs, jostling the rifle slung across his shoulder. “He died as he lived—gambling and shooting. And you know damn well I’m smarter than you, Lucky.”
“Then how come I was the one who got his widow to give up the location?”
“Only ‘cause you put your shotgun to her head.”
Smiling, you stroke the stock of your gun. Pretty as it is, it’s even more deadly under your control. You might be known as Lucky to everyone in the West, but that nickname isn’t about your aim.
“C’mon,” you say. The abandoned house draws closer with each step you take. “Where’d she say it was again? Kitchen?”
He sighs and pushes you aside to enter the building. “Out the way. She said kitchen cellar. Your dumb hide’ll probably mistake the upstairs for the down.”
You want to snap something back at him, but no insults come to mind. He’s a shit drinker and a second-rate shot, but he knows those things better than anyone. Doesn’t matter. You follow him through the faded living room, through the chipped kitchen. Dust motes swirl in the air, and you resist the urge to sneeze. A tiny door, more gaps than planks, is nestled into a corner.
“Greedy,” you mumble as Felix swings it open and descends without a second thought. You press your shotgun to your cheek. Point the muzzle at his back. “Always knew you were.”
At the bottom of the stairs waits a group of men, their guns of choice aimed at Felix. Felix reaches for his own weapon, but the click of someone’s lever makes him pause.
“Sheriff,” you greet. “A thousand in gold coins, don’t you forget. I’ll come by tomorrow.”
“You set me up,” Felix says. The despair in his voice might’ve hurt a little more if he hadn't called you an idiot earlier. “You already have the treasure, don't you?”
You shrug. “You walked into it. Gentlemen.”
The Sheriff flicks the brim of his hat up and aims his gun at you. “Now who said you could leave?”
“You said I wouldn’t be a part of it.”
“I lied. And you believed me. Boys.”
You catch a glimpse of Felix’s grinning face before you scramble out of the stairway and slam the tiny door behind you. Between the kitchen and the living room, you hear footsteps thundering, so from the safety of the wall, you fire a shot into the kitchen and pray it hits someone good. Then you continue running.
If they’re smart, they’ll position themselves at the windows and shoot you while you get on your horse. If they’re dumb, they’ll do the same.
You climb onto your horse sidesaddle just as you see the curtains fluttering. Opening a window just wastes time. You ought to help.
The two front windows are easily shattered with a bullet each. As glass explodes, you nudge your horse into a canter. A stray bullet flies through the front door and lands into a fence post. The Sheriff steps out onto the porch, cocks his shotgun, and aims at you once more. Another miss.
You fire back, hitting him squarely in the chest. He cries out, but no one goes to help him. The closest thing he gets is Felix stepping over his fallen body to chase you down.
“Son of a bitch!”
“Nothing personal, Felix. I just wanted the money,” you shout back.
You lift your gun again, and he flinches. But you’re not going for him. His horse whinnies as it buckles down in pain, collapsing into the sand. There, Felix can’t follow you now.
With full confidence, you swing one leg over and urge your own healthy horse into a gallop. Five shots for an escape, not a single reload needed, not a single scratch on your body. Not too bad.
The dust swirls around you, so you tug the bandana around your neck up to your nose and pull your hat lower.
There’s a reason why they call you Lucky.
a/n part two: if you want actual valentine’s day fics, check out the ones i've written in previous years candy hearts (hyunjin) // cavities, fillings, and feelings (in) // flowers for you (lee know) // stupid cupid (bang chan)
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