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#they probably do have them and you can maybe get them at stores sometimes but. hhhh.....
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Trying to find something to go with these tights? I don’t have a lot of bright clothes that match them, so went more in a mixing it with lighter colors sort of direction, maybe sort of sky themed (rainbow with the blue and white clouds)?
#self#ootd#should I start tagging things as that?? lol.. I mot sure how to tag things like this that are. not costumes really. just outfits. but not a#specific style or anything. just like experimental#I need more cloud print items also.. there just arn't many of them. OR actually. There are not many of them if you're someone like me who#pretty much exclusively gets clothes at places like the bins and thrift stores. All of the cloud print items I have are the small like 0.5%#of my wardrobe gotten from ebay in the past 10 years. I have never seen a cloud print thing out in the wild actually#OR sometimes you finally find stuff that's sky/cloud themed but it's like... a washcloth for babies. instead of a shirt. ... sad#they probably do have them and you can maybe get them at stores sometimes but. hhhh.....#Buying things new is so stinky. everything costs over $10 >:(  why.. why cost mony >:(#I think once you get used to everything being like 25 cents an item to MAYBE $8 or something at a real thrift store#going to online or in person stores and seeing stuff like a cloud dress but it's $65  is like.......... I could never. I could never fathom#I mean. I WOULD pay $65 for a dress if it was literally like. Exactly every specific thing I love all in one and I know I would never find#it again in my entire life and could not make it myself and etc. etc. Like a pastel blue and white historical style dress with#puffy sleeves that goes down to the ankles and has a high ruffled collar and also has a pattern with cats and clouds and stars on it and the#sleeves and striped and there's lace and bows and things dangling from the cuffs and part of it is irridescent and there are long buttons or#lacing or some other elaborate details and tassles somewhere also and it's layered and 3 sizes too big for me so it's not tight#or etc. etc. I would pay maybe $80 for that. Perhaps $100 if it came with accessoriy bits (like a ruffled fancy apron or shawl or hisorical#bonnet or matching gloves that also had cats on them etc. ) - but otherwise. No.#ANYWAY. for someone who loves clouds SO much. I have so little actual cloud themed clothing and house things lol#If I had a billion dollars though... >:) I would give 80% of my money to charity obligatory but what I had left I would use to have like.#the most Themed house ever. so much clouds and also cats. rug shaped like clouds. a cloudy sky mural on every cieling.#full wardrobe of cloud print cloaks and stuff. so on and so forth lol
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kethabali · 14 days
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i continue to be surprised how our body, minds, and universe align perfectly sometimes and we get just what we needed even if we don't realize we needed it
#someone asked me for money and i didnt have cash and they asked if they can have my food so i just took them to the store and bought them#something to eat and talked a bit which was very needed bc i been in a downer the last 2 days#freezing up from my workload of house work and school work#so i just not been doing either of it really#only the basics of eating and cleaning myself (somewhat) but i went out today to get a charger for my weed pen or to buy another pen#and thats when i saw her so that was good#first iw as like maybe god is real or something cuz how that keep aligning like that but then i realized i made the choice to talk to her#and buy her food.. it was literally me who made it happen not gOd#so yea i still am not re believing in god at least not the institutional organized religion god#cuz that guy is pure evil he is the real devil im telling you#but i do believe our souls know what we need and try to make it happen regardless of our circumstances#anyways.. gonna watch a really gorey movie now instead of reading for school#i do want to read but at the same time i do not want to read#i want to read not today but i Have to read today and tomorrow bc its due on tuesday#and i wanna go to a protest tomorrow so mainly i have today and half of tomorrow and a bit of tuesday#which is not enough for my adhd ass to do this how i want so it will probably be rushed#unless i take somehthing else out of the schedule but i really wanna go to the protest GRR i hate capitalism#just let me do things how i wanna do it im pissed off again#why i gotta do things on other peoples schedule all the goddamn time this is my least favorite thing about capitalism#never being able to do things when i wanna do them cuz there are consequences for if i ignore the other things#i just sometimes wanna be like fuck it let me just take the consequence and do what i want but that never went well in high school#i guess i can read 2 pages or something#or die. just kidding.. haha.. im trying not to answer die or death anytime i am inconvenienced#🧃
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tgirlwithreverb · 5 months
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I saw that post about what to do if you're homeless again (the one that starts by telling you to spend all of your money on motel rooms lmao) anyway, here's a few thoughts, specifically for trans girls, cuz I don't really care otherwise tbh:
1) plan ahead, most trans girls are in precarious housing situations, you will have a much easier time when it falls apart if you already have a pack with most of the gear you need in it. Also, if you find yourself in a situation where you cant make rent, dont pay part of it, spend that money on gear, pocket the rest and leave, youll have a much nicer time. Look up your local eviction laws, you have plenty of time. (Gear list at the end)
2) travel! If you're in Arizona in May, leave. it's about to be hot as hell. If you're in Michigan in October, leave. It's about to be cold as hell. If you're in a big city, leave. It's way easier to be homeless pretty much anywhere else. Amtrak is cheaper and more comfortable than greyhound, hitchhiking is free and easy, if you're alone it's not that much slower than the previous two, and it's more fun, and sometimes people buy you food or whatever or give you money. I promise it's not scary and you're entirely capable of doing it, no matter who you are. 95+% of people who will pick you up are very nice. All you have to do is take the bus out of town, as far down the highway you can, to an exit with a truck stop if possible, then just stand on the side of the road with your thumb out until someone picks you up. You can stand at the bottom of the ramp(on the highway) near where the merge lane ends or at the top of the ramp(where there's usually a traffic light), the former is more likely to lead to cop interactions but will maybe get you a ride faster, check on hitchwiki for how the cops are in the area. don't be afraid to take a commuter bus or Amtrak to get out of a shitty cop area
3) skip shelters if you can (they are very occasionally a decent place to get stuff from) and encampments, good places to sleep include the trees near railroad tracks or highways, wooded areas behind shopping centers, sections of parks without paths, overgrown empty lots. Hang a tarp above you if there's an appreciable chance of rain, there's tons of YouTube tutorials on how to do this, maybe I'll make a post about what I usually do some day. There are many habits more fun than motel rooms, save your money for them lmao.
4) get on food stamps. This is easier in some places than others, but it makes the whole thing a lot easier. Just tell them you're homeless, if they don't give you a card the same day, you can probably ask to pick it up from that office, alternatively some drop in centers/day shelters can receive mail for you, or you can have it sent to general delivery(USPS service, look it up)
7) libraries are great for charging your phone and using wifi, but also keep an eye out, plenty of random outlets on the outsides of buildings are also powered
5) dumpster. sidewalk trash cans, Aldi, Einstein's, trader Joe's, pizza places, etc. You need to develop a bit of a sense for it but it's an easy way to get cooked food or travelling food or expensive food without spending resources. Also it's fun.
6) water is free, go into the bathroom of any gas station or grocery store in America(offer not valid in most big cities or on the west coast, but in that case just go to the library) and fill up your water bottle
8) hygiene notes: truckers get free showers from chain truck stops(loves, pilot/flying j) go there and ask them. convenient if you're hitchhiking, also you don't need to shower 3 times a day, really, you'll survive. Ditto with deodorant. Take care of your teeth though. Take your socks off every. day. Change them consistently. Safety razors give a good shave, work well without adequate water pressure, and the replacement blades are very stealable, they're kind of heavy though. Walmart makes these electric razors for women that take AA batteries and are pretty light but give a worse shave, also they kinda go through batteries, pick whatever works for you(cartridge razors suck)
9) traveling food notes: peanut butter is great, tortillas and bagels travel pretty well, tuna packets are pretty good protein for traveling(the ones with rice and beans or whatever are nice since theyre often the same price as the regular), condiment packets are free, hot sauce makes everything better, and mayo goes well with tuna and has a bunch of calories in it, salad dressing packets are free from truck stops and work well turning the Walmart shredded vegetable packages (labeled for making into slaw, next to the bagged salads) into a salad with real vegetables(not iceberg lettuce) in it or mixing in with tuna packets for even more calories than mayo
Gear world:
Necessary items(in order of importance): a gallon of water carrying capacity(an Arizona jug or other twist top jug is conventional, but a bladder+arizona bottles also works), a tarp(larger than 6'x9', not brightly colored), a hank of parachord, a sleeping bag (20° rated, synthetic insulation), a backpack with a padded hip belt(at least 50L, no more than 75), rain gear(a rain poncho might cover your pack too, a rain jacket can help with wind when its cold, a trash bag inside or outside your pack can keep it dry, a plan to watch the weather and not get caught also works), a z-fold foam sleeping pad, three pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear (at least one pair of boxer breifs strongly recommended if you arent incredibly skinny), a decent pair of shoes with good arch support, a functional jacket(skip if you got a rain jacket before), a base layer(wool or poly, absolutely no cotton)
Convenient items: a sleeping bag liner(cotton free, keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer), gallon zip locks to pack your stuff in(helps keep it dry and organized), no more than one change of clothes(as light as possible), a multi-tool(can opener, pliers, wire cutter), lighter(burning rope ends etc), spoon, floss and needles for patching
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moongreenlight · 7 months
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“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.
He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.
I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.
- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.
Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’
Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.
That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.
- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.
But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.
- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.
Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.
- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.
Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.
- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.
Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]
MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.
His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.
- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.
It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.
“Didn’t think you’d call.”
“Didn’t think I would either.”
He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.
- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.
So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.
Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.
Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.
- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.
Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.
- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.
He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)
He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.
Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.
LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.
- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.
GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.
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ms-demeanor · 2 months
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This is regarding your post involving making friends. I have had a spectacular amount of failures in meetup groups, particularly involving men from multiple meetup groups trying to take advantage of me or using me. In addition to that, the other members of the groups tend are often quite rude. Also, many meetups in my area tend to fall into one of the following categories: professional seminar, mommy & me, or the other members are double my age or older. What would you advise?
Volunteering - find something you care about and see if there is a local volunteer opportunity; you might want to look into food banks or mutual aid projects.
Crafting - this will likely be an older crew, but making friends with older people is cool honestly.
Sports - see if there's a kickball league or some other variety of low-key sport that you can sign up for.
Get super into the local music scene. Go to bar shows, go to basement shows, go to backyard shows. If you go to places where they have local music and hang out a bunch you will get to know local music people eventually, which includes both people in bands and people interested in bands.
Become a regular at your local library. Go once a week at the same time of day and you'll start to get to know people.
Become a regular at something else local. If you go to the same coffee shop three times a week for a few months and are polite to the employees you will probably eventually have friends among the people there; even if you do this by walking around the neighborhood park at the same time of day you will start getting to know the park regulars people love habits and if you can become a chill part of their daily scenery they will eventually want to investigate further.
Start your own club of some kind. Maybe start a book club for a particular genre of book that you like, or start a movie group where you meet up to see a movie together twice a month. You can post things like this on meetup websites or facebook, but you can also make fliers to put up in places that you think people you might find interesting would hang out.
Join a gym and go regularly. Sometimes a random person you see all the time in a gym can go from being a reliable on-the-spot spotter to a good friend.
Take a class locally. See if your town has a community center that offers cooking classes or computer classes or any kind of classes even things you already know. I keep making jokes about improv but improv people are great; see if you can take an impov class. See if your local music store offers music classes (I made weirdly good friends with the folks at the music store where I took vocal lessons; this was a pleasant surprise!)
When you try any of these places make friendly smalltalk with the people you encounter and express interest in them. If you are speaking to employees, make sure you're giving them lots of conversational outs because attempting to befriend people who are working can feel like you're cornering them, I'd actually say don't try to befriend the employees at a business unless you go there and they attempt to befriend you, however as someone who worked in coffee shops for ten years if someone randomly started showing up for six hours a week I would almost certainly have gotten to a friendly shoot-the-shit level with them within a month; if you go out among people who are sociable and are around them enough sometimes the sociable people go "aha! new friend sighted!" and do the hard work for you, but you do have to go to places to let yourself be found by the sociable ones.)
I do not, generally speaking, use meetup groups as a generic thing as much as I look into what groups exist locally that I am interested in. If a local game store is running a weekly Magic tournament, that's a better place to meet people in my opinion than a one-time bowling event.
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steviewashere · 5 months
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Kiss and Tell
(Can be found on ao3)
Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing
Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3
-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.
It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.
The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.
He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.
And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.
It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.
But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.
And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.
Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.
Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).
He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.
Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.
Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.
But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.
Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.
Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.
So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.
He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.
Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.
But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.
"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—
Has to squint harder.
So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.
And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—
"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.
Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.
And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.
Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.
So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.
And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.
No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.
Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.
"Do that again," Steve whispers.
Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.
That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.
So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.
But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.
Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.
And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"
He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.
Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.
--------
❤️
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toorurs · 2 months
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WHAT IT MEANS TO LOVE YOU - AVENTURINE
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synopsis: sometimes aventurine feels undeserving of the love you provide him and tries to show his love for you in various ways.
pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 1.1k | content & warnings: written before aventurines release so probably ooc!aventurine, mention of aventurines backstory and his tattoo, mention of one of his leaked lines, fluff, light angst(if you squint??), reader reassures him, reader uses lip products like lipsticks and lip tints, kind of insecure!aventurine, big ass speech that kind of repeats in the end, (kissing lol??), word vomit
a/n: hihi!! sorry that i havent posted in a while but i decided to post this little fic in honour of the new aventurine leaks!!! LIKE HAVE U SEEN THAT FOLLOW UP ATTACK IM SCREAMINGNGNGJ. also this is not proof read like maybe half assed proof read, i finished this at 2 ammmm
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"you know, when i told you that i needed a new lipstick i didn't mean an entire collection"! your eyes flicker from his - down to the surface of your vanity as you can see the pink and red lip products that are splayed across the desk before your eyes dart over to back to his figure that's currently leaning against the door frame, to stare at him in disbelief.
you're discombobulated, dumbfounded, befuddled -  because who in their right mind just buys a ton of lipsticks and lip tints that's probably worth someone's yearly salary! (someone being you) 
windows are eyes to the soul they say. because it seems like he's able to read and understand what you're trying to say without you even having to utter a word.
the blond moves from his previous spot over to you and plops himself down on the stool which is located in front of your desk before giving you playful smile 
he sighs and shrugs in simplicity before speaking up "well, you know, i wasn't sure which one you liked the most and those sales assistants weren't of big help either, so I just bought every colour that they had in store". 
he softly takes your hand in his and intertwines them as he starts to rub circles along the back of your hand. "and it doesn't matter which colour you're gonna use, it'll look good on you either way" he stops caressing your hand for a moment to give you a tender kiss on the back of your hand.
"aventurine"! you exclaim. "i appreciate each of your gifts a lot, i really do and i adore and appreciate you for your generosity. but don't you think that purchasing an entire lip product collection that will expire sooner or later because I haven't been able to try them all out is a bit selfless"? 
the man simply shakes his head before he proceeds to disagree. "no"? he says in a nonchalant manner. "after all", he pauses for a moment. "if you'd told me to spend less time at the IPC and get home earlier or to cancel my trips to other planets because you've missed me", he takes off his glasses and lets out a quiet breathy laugh. "i'd do it in a heartbeat, without having to think twice".
"you know that i'd devote all my love, time and dedication to you. that i'd cross every universe, every ocean and defeat every foe that stands in my way just to see you and have you in my arms". you take notice of his hand that is still intertwined with yours, is slightly trembling. he shakes his head and fiddles with your fingers a bit.
his usual composure and cockiness is long gone. "no - i'd cross every universe, every ocean and defeat every foe that stands in my way just to see and so that you can have me in your arms and lovingly embrace me. i would not only dedicate my love, time and devotion to you but me, my whole self. after all, you're the dawn that i've thought i'd never have the chance to see. the dawn that shone upon me on my darkest days. so treat me how you want, drag me through the mud and use me as you wish, as long as i get to see you". 
"there's nothing that i deem as selfless as long as it's for you."
his hand wasn't the only hand which was trembling now. "aventurine, please don't say that. you try to reassure him but your voice fails you as it quivers. 
"to me you're much more than a puppet which I can benefit from, you're my lover, aventurine." you say in a stern but sincere tone. you turn to the lip products which are  still displayed on your desk and apply a bright pink colour on your lips. (admittedly you were never fond of flashy and gaudy colours when it came to lip sticks but the pink colour matches aventurines eyes which makes you think that they might not be that bad)
"but-", he tries to speak up and continue his sentence, but you don't let him. "no buts", you put your hands on his cheeks and give him a sweet peck on his pouted lips. "ah sorry" you say sheepishly, "i didn't mean to interrupt you, but aventurine you're much more to me than you probably think you are". 
you brush one of his golden hair strands behind his ear before speaking up again. "you're smart and witty. when a complicated situation occurs you always defend me and start a commotion which wouldn't stop anytime soon until the people who were being rude to me would pay and apologize to me".
you let out a profound laugh as you think back of the times that this has already happened. "i adore that mouth of yours, it never fails to neither surprise nor amaze me and '', you kiss him on the lips for a second time, though this time the peck lasts for a bit longer. "and, it's really good at kissing too" you let out another heartfelt laugh that sounds like music to aventurines ears.
he can't stop the smile that forms upon hearing your words and laugh, he wonders how he was so lucky to be the one to steal your heart.
"and not to forget", your eyes wander to his beautiful pink hues. "you're observant, very - if I might say so." this time you kiss his eyelids and they flutter upon the sensation of your mouth coming in contact with the layer of skin that separates your lips and his eyes.
"you always notice when i'm feeling down and try to cheer me up in various ways. and not to mention, nothing ever gets past your eyes! it's like they're always on me" you tease him, but you're able to confirm your statement as you see the tips of his ears reddening. 
"but most importantly", your hands wander down to his shoulders. "if i'm having a bad day you always let me hug you and i get to bury my face into the crook of your neck. you never question what or why i'm doing it and let me stay in this position until i start speaking up first".
"you're always patient with me and that is the trait that i love about you the most. so patient, that i sometimes feel undeserving of your love" you start peppering tender kisses from his jawline down to his neck and kiss the spot that is covered by the tattoo. 
"so aventurine, please don't say that. please don't talk like someone forbade you to love me, like someone shackled and bound you to me because you don't need permission to love me. you're a free person who is allowed to love anyone - including me”.
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© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted
e/n: reblogs are greatly appreciated! + divder by @/cafekitsune
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hoe4sports · 10 days
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Double trouble
Alexia Putellas x reader
Summary: Your twins needs new cleats and alexia learns about the increase in cost of living.
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Dinner was soon to be ready, just in time to eat before your twin girls had football practice. They were both on the Barcelona u15’s team, and somehow both of them had a talent. “Mamma!” Your eldest daughter yelled from the down stairs laundry room causing you to mentally sight. She was the messier of the twins; she would probably lose her head if it wasn’t stuck to her body. “Si, mi amor” you said as you walked into the laundry room. “Mamma, they don’t fit anymore!” She cried as she threw the cleat towards the corner of the room. “Que? The new one? The pair you got a few months ago, si?” You said as you touched her back to comfort her. “Si, mamma..” she said as she frowned. The girls were definitely in a growth spurt. “Let’s see, Hermosa” you said as you opened up the laces of the shoes and bent down to help her try it on. “AUCH, my toe! It hurts mamma!” She protested as you got the shoe on. “Wiggle your toes” you commanded as she sighted and wiggled her toes. It was clear as day, she needed new cleats again. “Alright, Mami is gonna be home any minute now. Let’s all eat and then go to pick up some new ones, si? It’s important that they make you feel comfortable. Go grab your sister and help me set the table, por favor” you said as you stood up and reached your hand out for her to grab. The blonde got up while leaning on to your hand and skipped upstairs to get her sister. The twins were spitting image of Alexia, expect they had icy blue eyes from the donor. You had originally wanted to have kids in two rounds; one with your egg and one with alexia’s egg. However, a pair of twins ended the plan quickly as they were more than enough for the two of you.
Just as you got to the kitchen, Alexia entered the house. “Hola amor” Alexia sang as she walked into the kitchen. “Smells amazing” she said as she hugged you from behind kissing your neck. “Spinach pasta” you said as you leaned into her smiling. You loved your little family, it was everything you had ever dreamed of. The twins bounced down the stairs together and walked into the kitchen. “Mami!” Elena yelled as she hugged alexia. The twins and alexia started setting the table, and you put the pasta in a serving bowl. Alexia grabbed sparkling water and you all sat down at the kitchen table in your designated chairs. “How was school, girls?” Alexia said as she slurped in a spaghetti. “It was bien! I sat with Andrea in class, she’s so nice. Maybe she can sleep over sometime? I also got my test back, I got a B, but I studied really hard” Camila rambled as you all kept on eating. Camila was the more talkative of the girls, often leading the conversation. After a quick chat about her new friend and her good grades, the other twin spoke up. “Mamma, do we have Bandaids? Or tape?” She said as she shoved her pasta around on her plate. “Si, why? Are you hurt?” You asked as you got a worried grin. “No! No, I’m not hurt. My cleats are just tight and it’s tugging in my heel.” She said as she looked up carefully. Alexia’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Already?? Didn’t you ge-“ you smacked her arm. If looks could kill, she would be a dead woman. “Honey, it’s normal. You are growing everyday besides, we are already going to stop by the sports store to grab your sister a new pair so why not see if you find something you like too?” You said as you took a sip of water. Her eyes lit up as she smiled and nodded rapidly. Dinner went on, and you were soon on your way to the store.
“Alright preciousas, here we are” alexia said as she pulled your Lexus suv up in the parking lot of the sports store. The girls quickly hopped out and practically sprinted towards the store in their workout gear. You grabbed alexia’s hand as you walked in and was met by a mountain of cleats. “Oh my” you mumbled as your eyes widened. Having two girls in football wasn’t cheap, especially not when they were starting to work towards playing professionally while both being on the national team. It meant twice the travel expenses,, kits, jerseys, clothes and a shit ton of sports tape. “Mami! I like the pink ones” Camila squealed as she grabbed Alexia’s arm and pulled her towards a bright pair of Nike. Elena was more hesitant and grabbed your hand as you walked around. “What color do you like? Is there a specific brand you want?” You asked softly as her eyes scanned the wall. “I like pink” she said as she looked over at her sister that was busy trying on cleats. “The same as that your sister is trying on, si?” You asked as you walked towards her and alexia. Elena nodded and held close to you. After a few trials and errors both girls had found a pair of bright pink Nike; the same pair to be fair. It wasn’t really a problem, you just needed to mark the inside of the shoe. Not that it would be a problem as Elena was more of a left striker while Camila was a right striker. At the register, a young woman scanned the boxes and tapped the register. The girls each grabbed the box and immediately disposed the boxes in the trash as they went to the bench in the doorway to put their new cleats on. “And that will be, 559.99 euros m’am” the woman spoke as Alexia was pulling out her wallet. “!?” Alexia said in disbelief. “559.99” the woman repeated as she smiled. “Cash or card?” Alexia stood dumbfounded and looked at the register. “Ai, card” she said as she rubbed her neck. I giggled behind her as this was usually something I would take care of in terms of shopping and her being happy to pay down the credit card every month.
As we walked out the store, the rain has started pouring so Alexia unlocked the car as the girls sprinted towards it t avoid getting soaked. We drove the 5 mins to the arena and said our goodbye’s to the girls before entering the designated room for parents to watch. Alexia grabbed us both coffees on the way into the room, and sat down beside me to watch the girls. Me and one of the other mothers were talking about how crazy the cost of living had become and how groceries had become a huge expense. “Have you even seen the price of eggs! It’s insane, and my daughter eats like a horse.” the woman next to me exclaimed. “Think eggs are expensive? Try having one egg fertilised and it splitting into two.” I said as the whole room giggled while Alexia chocked on her coffee dramatically. “It was your egg Putellas, so you are to blame” I whispered as I winked.
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Daily Log 5
Trying out (probably just temporarily) making short daily-ish notes about things, in an attempt to see if it helps me be more reflective or productive lol.
Activities: Not much, I had to run errands most of the day and also felt incredibly tired, probably because the cats woke me up like 4 times last night begging for food and things. Overly warm and headachey a lot.
I planted a few new flowers, and pressed more flowers and clovers in my Large Sturdy Flower Pressing Book as well.
Actually worked on translating the text for the previously mentioned tapestry/painting thing. I think I've decided that it doesn't really matter very much, because nobody else even knows anything about this conlang except for me, so they won't know if it's wrong lol.. It is not entirely completed after all (complete enough to translate most simple sentences into consistently, but also there are a few spots here and there where I haven't fully worked out the way some part of speech actually functions or etc., or I wrote down one thing that later contradicts something else, so occasionally I reach a sentence that I'm not sure exactly which rule to follow to translate, and I need to do a larger comprehensive organization of the document to work out all the kinks and declare officially like 'THIS is the ONE way this is done' etc. etc.) - so because of that, I think I'll just kind of 'do my best' and if the rules now end up changing in the future as I further work on the language, then, that's fine, because nobody can read it anyway lol. Kind of like that song on my side music youtube that's sung in genuine Avirrekava lyrics but also I wrote them years ago and some of the sentences have now become outdated/invalid.
Washed and cleaned some kale so it will be dry for me to maybe make silly kale chips tomorrow.
Final proofreading + posting of the poll adventure thing.
eughh,, literally nothing else.. I hate running errands because it always makes me feel drained and sick after, plus I get nothing else done all day except for just going places. I know checking my p.o. box and picking up cat food and stuff is technically still a productive action, but it just feels like.. i should be getting all of my long term projects done instead lol.. what about the videos?? or worldbuilding?? what does grocery shopping have to do with elves??!?! >:V (aside from pretending to be a group of fantasy creatures evaluating produce having an imaginary conversation with yourself at the store ghghj,, but that is not productive either lol)
Notable sights: Found 13 four leaf clovers, and 2 five leaf clovers, though one of them is almost a 6 leaf (like one of the leaves is nearly split all the way into a sort of heart shape, just not entirely). Also two of the clovers are HUGE, probably the biggest 4 leaf clovers I've ever collected, like 2 inches across maybe. The sky was very pretty a lot with big fluffy white clouds. Not a 'sight' really, but I got to sit in air conditioning for a little while today and it was very nice. I love the cold crisp kind of stale air smell, like walking into a freezer or something (which I used to do when I was a kid, I would sneak into a walk-in freezer at a school cafeteria and just sit there for a while lol), it's comforting to me.
Goals moving forward: Consistent sleep schedule. Focus on social activities, finding new friends in the places I want to move, communicating with ones I have. Physical therapy exercises. Plant nasturtiums. Finish and upload videos, edit costume pictures & etc. Do the new costumes I've planned. MAKE SCULPTURES at some point, I miss them.
Notable foods: Had a bit of smoked gouda and green onions in my Mandated Completely Plain Flavorless Grits For Breakfast this morning, as a littol treat lol.. Tried a 'biscoff' ice cream bar, which is generally a flavor profile I like, but I think I would usually rather be eating a cookie than having ice cream. Also an Ensure nutritional drink, which I know most people consider gross but I genuinely like them.. maybe it's like a source of comfort when my stomach is too sick to eat, like 'oh well at least I can have this cold smooth textured chalky chocolate thing' lol.
Sort of like how I have positive conditioning to feel safe/comfortable in bathrooms (due to it usually being one of the only places you can safely retreat from a social situation or get out of crowds in public areas, etc.), even though rationally I have no particular reason to like bathrooms much, and most people dislike public bathrooms especially. Fellow public bathroom and ensure nutritional shake lovers unite! (3 of us in the entire world)
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#just posting these publicly since it feels more like I'm doing something or easier to hold yourself accountable if you make public#declarations of goals and progress or etc. .. perhaps.. for now..#Not sure if this is helping me be more productive#though I think it might in some ways help me appreciate things around me more. Since I'm kind of collecting 'notable' sights or smells#or things. sometimes through the day I'm looking around my environment trying to spot anything whimsical or wonderful or pleasing#I could see this excercise possiblyhelping people pick out more positives around them and appreciate small things in life more#I kind of already do that (very meticulous slow moving person who notices tiny details in everything) so I'm not sure if it's any more than#I usually would but.. eh?? maybe??#Still craving a ton of hearty foods lol my body is so so so deficient in something right now and I'm being very cool about it#I have a very high level of self control (so like am very responsible good at managing money and getting placeson time and planning and#etc. and abstaining from things if necessary (like wearing a mask and cutting out certain activities during a pandemice#or not eating something now that might hurt my stomach later etc. etc.) so It's not much of a problem but#if not... I would probably be ordering in so much random fast food and stuff or something ghh#Even before I was put on a restrictive diet by my doctors I still never ate out very much for money reasons#Usually once a month or less. this includes stuff like coffees (can be made at home cheaper) or drinks or etc.#Especially with the cost of things going up so much now I'm kind of glad I've already built in that habit#/have never known or gotten used to anything else - because if not I feel like it would be a real shock or like a struggle#I have friends that order in food for like every single meal and it's only getting more and more expensive#so I guess it's kind of releiving to not really have the prospect of that stress as much (though things in the grocery store#are still expensive too so.. even if you're cooking at home. You do save money but its STILL a strain with the current#economy). ANYWAY... maybe sometimes it is good to be miserly and poor.. if I had unlimited money and a spending habit or something#I could go through with ordering ribs and chicken wings and 5 plates of lasagna and a burrito and udon and etc. and eat it all at once#and then have such a bad stomach pains I have to go to the hospital lol#ANYWAY...#daily log
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appocalipse · 3 months
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MAKE IT EASY (part 2) : ̗̀➛ STEVE HARRINGTON
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・❥・part 1・part 2・❥・3k words
Summary: steve asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family dinner. the problem is: after all is said and done, he gives you the cold shoulder. have you done something wrong?
Steve has a problem.
No, scratch that. He created a problem for himself, actually, about a week ago. A big, confusing problem that he now has no idea how to solve, so naturally what he's doing is plan B, which is the next best thing: avoiding the problem until it somehow resolves itself.
You are Steve Harrington's problem.
You, with your disarming smile, your gratuitous kindness and your impossible-to-forget laugh. You had made his parents like you, for God's sake. If that's not proof enough that you have some kind of magic working behind your smile, Steve doesn't know what is.
Oh! And of course, there is that damn dress.
Steve lowers his head until his forehead rests on the counter and sighs. Ah, that dress. Steve probably shouldn't think about it, let alone what was beneath it, the warm skin he touched for just a few seconds…no. He shouldn't think about it if he wanted to keep his sanity intact. But apparently, he likes to torture himself.
Steve stays in this awkward position for all of five dramatic seconds until his spine hurts. He straightens up again, with another sigh.
"You should talk to her."
It's Robin (of course) giving her opinion (that no one asked, Steve thinks bitterly) as she walks past him with a stack of tapes in her hands.
"I should never talk to her again. In fact," he argues, speaking a little louder so Robin can hear him from the back of the store, "if you're really my friend, you should make sure that I don't talk to her for the rest of my life."
"Coward."
"Maybe I am."
Even from this distance, Steve is under the impression that he hears Robin sighing.
She walks so fast that he doesn't even register the sound of her footsteps until Robin is in front of him, on the other side of Family Video's front counter, looking at him the way a mother would look at a child throwing a tantrum.
"You are going to talk to her," says Robin, with the certainty of someone who says the sky is blue.
"No."
She smiles. Steve is certain he recognizes that smile. It's the one that scares him, the same that precedes the moment when Dustin or one of the other kids says something like "just trust me, I have an idea", and the idea usually involves a robbery, a murder or interdimensional travel. Sometimes, all three of them.
"Robin-"
She has her backpack on her back.
"End of my shift," Robin hums, suspiciously happy. She takes a step back which, Steve thinks, is quite prudent considering what she says next, "…which means, my dear Steve, that you are obligated to serve our customers. Any customer. Even if you don't want to speak to this specific customer, you'll have to-"
Steve leans over the counter — to do what exactly, he's not sure; strangle her, perhaps — but Robin, as always, is faster. She laughs, and before he can do anything other than practically beg her to stay, Robin is out the front door yelling I'm sorry! over her shoulder, even though Steve knows she's not sorry at all.
Less than ten minutes later, the bell above the door rings again, and Steve wouldn't even have to look to know it's you.
You enter the store and your steps are quick, hurried, a clear goal in your mind.
You stop in front of Steve, almost exactly where Robin had stood a few minutes ago, but the look in your eyes is completely different for more reasons than one.
Steve swallows hard. You had been here two other times this week, and both times Steve managed to somehow force Robin to distract you, acting as if he was too busy to see you. You had clearly decided to talk to her behind his back, because all this had definitely been an elaborate plan between the two of you so that Steve couldn't get away.
You get to the point, crossing your arms. "You are avoiding me."
You're not asking; you're telling him. You know. You noticed.
Well, of course you did. You're smart. Smarter than him for sure.
Steve can only hope you haven't found out about the reason why he's avoiding you these past few days. That would be hard to explain.
He clears his throat. It's like he's trying to breathe with a couple of birds inside his ribcage.
"I'm not avoiding you," he says, but he looks away so quickly he doubts you believe him. "I've just got a lot going on lately…" he trails off, racking his brain for an excuse that would make sense without revealing too much.
It isn't fair — you're the last person he wants to hurt, and yet it took some elaborate plan between you and Robin to get him to stand in front of you again.
Pathetic.
You don't seem impressed. In fact, you laugh before he's even finished speaking, but it's not your usual light, happy laugh; It's a low, wry chuckle that makes Steve feel instantly irritated, even though he knows he probably doesn't even have that right after everything.
He knows he hurt you. He knows. He never wanted that. But you…you have no idea how torturous that night, that dinner had been for him. So yes; he does get a little angry.
"You've got nothing new going on lately!" you retort, growing angry yourself. "You just- I don't know. Have I…done something wrong? Did I make your parents mad that night or something? Because all of a sudden-"
"No!" he snaps, the word coming out harsher than he intended, and definitely louder. His cheeks flush with anger, and then embarrassment, and suddenly Steve desperately wants to crawl into a hole somewhere.
He clears his throat.
"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he repeats, softer this time. "It's just…it's complicated."
"It's complicated?" you ask, and now you're all but yelling too. Great. "That's your excuse for flat out ignoring me for the past week?"
"I'm not ignoring you!" he protests, his voice a bit higher than usual.
The truth is: he has been avoiding you. Every time he sees you, he feels this strange pull towards you - a mix of attraction and annoyance that he can't quite figure out. And every time he talks to you, he worries that maybe he'll say too much, or worse yet, say nothing at all and you, with your annoyingly sharp mind, will read him like a book.
As if that wasn't enough, Steve thinks, tormented, you decide to walk around the counter to literally stand in front of him, nothing else between the two of you besides a couple of steps.
This proximity feels like a trap. Steve takes another step back and his hipbone hits the counter. Dear God.
"Yes, you are!" you argue, crossing your arms and taking a step forward almost without realizing it. "You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night so that your parents would leave you alone, and I did. I thought it was okay. But then you pretty much ran out of my house afterwards and refused all my attempts to talk to you ever since."
You sigh. You lift your chin and look up at him, and, alarmed, Steve notices that your eyes are a little red, as if you're holding yourself back from crying.
He's making you cry?
Shit. The last thing he wants in the world is to make you cry.
"Tell me what I did wrong," you say, and the sudden softness of your voice catches Steve off-guard. "You owe me at least that, don't you? If seeing me is such a problem for you, just..tell me what I did wrong and I'll leave you alone. I'll go…clearly that's what you want."
"No, that's not what I want," he says quickly, stepping closer to you before his mind can catch up on his intentions. "Look, I'm sorry. I just…I don't know how to handle this."
He runs a hand through his tousled hair, and you probably notice the desperation in his tone, because you just stand there, looking at him. Waiting, he realizes. You don't move.
Then you ask, sounding so innocently confused that Steve almost feels like screaming:
"How to handle…what?"
It's not possible, he thinks. There's no way you didn't notice. You would have to be blind, deaf and…well, maybe not even then. Steve had thought things had gotten pretty clear the week before, at your place, when you had asked him to unzip your damn dress and he had gotten so carried away he almost kissed you and…
Well.
"You," he answers immediately, looking you square in the eye with all the genuine honesty he still has the capacity for. "I don't know how to handle the fact that I…" Steve swallows.
"That you..?" you encourage, taking a tentative step closer.
"Do you really want to know?" he asks, not moving an inch.
"Yes."
Steve's heart skips a beat, a beat that could very well be his last. "Look-"
"Tell me."
"I think you already know."
"I don't."
"Oh, come on," Steve says, his voice cracking as he lets out a humourless chuckle. "You can't tell me you didn't notice the way I looked at you last week. I mean, Jesus, I asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend for dinner with my parents, and then I almost…"
He trails off.
And there it is; that funny feeling inside your chest, that warmth you can't even begin to explain.
"You almost what?"
He chuckles again. "Why do you think I left like that?"
"I honestly have no fucking idea, Steve."
"You asked me to unzip your dress."
"And?"
Steve looks at you like you'd just grown an extra limb.
"You can't be serious."
"Okay, fine, I'm sorry I asked you to do that, but I didn't mean to make you, uh…uncomfortable. You could have said no if-"
"That's not it." Steve cuts you off, frustrated because God help him, you don't get it. You still, somehow, don't get it. He doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry.
So what he does instead is turn around, placing his hands on the counter, his back turned to you so that he can think clearly for a moment without being distracted by the way you're looking at him.
But you…oh, you never let things go, do you?
"What is it then, Steve, huh?" you ask, shortening the distance between the two of you by half. You know the answer, or at least a part of you does. But the other part, the part that's stubborn and insecure and tired…wants to hear him say it. Needs to hear him say it. "What is it? Because it feels like you just want to hurt me. You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night, but it didn't feel like we were…"
Pretending. Is that what you were going to say?
You stop speaking abruptly, eyes wide as if the words had come out of your mouth on their own. Judging by how angry you sounded, Steve thinks that's exactly what happened.
"Then you just…decided to ignore me."
For one moment, the only thing between you two is the silence.
"I didn't do that to hurt you," his voice is a whisper.
"Then what the fuck were you trying to do, Steve?"
"Get over you!"
"I...what?"
It feels like you're taunting him at this point.
"What, not what you expected?" He says, voice tight as he turns around to face you again, a bitter laugh trapped inside his throat. "C'mon, are you that oblivious?" 
He's getting closer to you as he speaks now, voice growing more intense, more desperate; but you don't back away, he notices. You don't move, don't push him away. All you do is look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, waiting, searching for something in his expression. 
"I-I fucked up, okay? I told you it was just play pretend but the truth is…I didn't have to pretend one bit," he confesses, eyes finding yours, and immediately that anger — or whatever it was — dissipates, his tone softening as a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I should have known that having you for one night, even if it was just pretend, would just make it that much worse. That's why I tried to avoid you. To get over you…and clearly that didn't work."
There's so much you want to say that you feel like you're choking on your own words. "I don't- you, I mean-"
"No, it's alright, just…" He looks down at the ground, then steps back again with a small, empty chuckle. "Go ahead and reject me. Make it easy for me."
"I-what? Reject you?" If a demogorgon suddenly showed up and swallowed your left leg whole, you're pretty sure you would have been less taken aback.
"I know it's not what you want to hear. It's not how I wanted things to go either. But I'm trying to be honest here," he says, taking another step back, feeling more and more exposed with every stupid word that comes out of his mouth. "I care about you. And I know that if I don't get over this, it's going to ruin everything. So, please, just-"
"Oh my God, you are so stupid!"
Your tone of voice changed completely. Steve lifts his head to look at you, and to his complete and utter confusion, you're laughing.
Laughing.
For a terrible moment, the thought that you're laughing at him crosses his mind, but then…
You hug him. You hug him so tightly, in fact, that Steve is pushed back a step or two, and suddenly he's pressed up against the counter once again.
“You didn’t kiss me,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your cheek pressed against his chest. 
He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair and feeling the soft cotton of your shirt under his fingers. He can feel the warmth of your body against his. It's almost painful, how good it feels to be this close to you. 
He wonders if he heard it wrong.
No — he certainly heard it wrong. He's hallucinating. Must be.
"Wait, I…what?"
You don't move an inch, but Steve feels as you take a deep breath against his shirt. He wishes he could see your face. 
"That night," you explain, finally looking up at him. You look more flustered than he's ever seen you. Closing one of your hands into a fist, you hit Steve's chest without any real force. "I thought you were going to kiss me, but then you just ran off without saying anything. How was I supposed to guess that you actually liked me, Steve Harrington?"
He almost chuckles. Steve feels like his heart is in his throat, he can't believe what he's hearing. You like him? You, the girl he's been crushing on for what feels like forever, actually like him? 
It's too much to process. He tries to form a response, but all that comes out is a strangled sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
So instead of trying to use any stupid words, he reaches out and cups your face in his hands, feeling the warmth of your skin against his. He leans down slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, and finally, finally, when you don't move away…he brushes his lips against yours. 
It's just a soft, tentative touch, but it's enough to make him forget about everything else. 
Steve pulls back then, waiting for you to pull away, to tell him no…but you don't. You close your eyes and lean into him, opening your mouth a little more against his, inviting him in. He takes the invitation, pressing his lips against yours again, more firmly this time, feeling your soft, warm tongue slide against his. He presses harder, deepening the kiss, feeling your hands curl into his shirt as he pulls you even closer.
You feel dizzy, light-headed, and utterly, perfectly lost in this moment. 
Your hands cling to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles there as you, too, attempt to pull him closer, as close as possible…and then, the bell above the front door rings, announcing that someone just entered the store.
Fuck. 
Steve groans as you pull back immediately.
It's just a customer, an older man with a newspaper under his arm, looking around curiously. Steve knows it's not his fault, but he doesn't think he's ever hated anyone quite so strongly.
He looks down at you and it's a mistake; you look so beautiful with your cheeks flushed, lips swollen from the kiss, a soft, embarrassed smile on your mouth. Steve doesn't know what to say, he's not even sure he knows how to find his voice right now, so one of his hands finds its way up to cup your cheek again, fingers curling gently while the man walks around the store looking for God knows what.
Steve feels like he's on cloud nine. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in you again, and to hell with Family Video's customers. But you, on the other hand…
You grin. "You should probably-"
"Don't go anywhere," Steve tells you with a grin of his own. "I'll be right back."
Apparently, he wasn't aware that he wouldn't be able to get rid of you if he tried.
tags (i hope i haven't forgotten anyone, sorry!): @siriuslysmoking @sebastiansstanswhore @sorchateas @boomitsallie1 @vivzzi @mel119g @skrzydlak
my masterlist | buy me a coffee
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months
Text
The art of hospitality (Nanami Kento x fem!Reader)
Life wasn't that good after you dropped out of college. Luckily, a friend of a friend of a relative was willing to take you to live with him so you could watch over his weirdly big house while he was away on endless work trips. Nanami never thought that investment in the kindness of his heart would pay out like this. He is not complaining.
Tags and CW: Yandere, mild dub-con, non-consensual masturbation, Nanami is a panty stealer, light age difference, power imbalance, housewife kink AO3
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Some people are just not built to fend for themselves. Nanami can name a few, even though the sentiment leaves a bitter, bun-haired taste in his mouth. He shouldn’t think like this – like him – but it’s as impossible as not thinking about a panda bear after you just been prompted with hot imagining one. 
He can only repeat that he isn’t like this. It isn’t like him. Some people are just not built to fend for themselves, so people like Nanami are doing everything in their power to protect them. Weak are ruling the society and this is exactly how it is supposed to be. Strong should be content with not having any gratitude, happy that they were able to help. This is exactly how it’s supposed to be, and yet… — Thank you so much for letting me stay here, Nanami-san. With the lease and everything coming up, I just… His cheeks aren’t dusted red because this won’t be a normal answer to the situation. He isn’t blushing because he is somewhat not used to receiving a little thank you from a nice girl next door that he allowed to live with him and watch over the house while he is away on the missions(dumb, dumb girl got kicked out of the apartment after a failed lease renewal and found him through a friend of a relative). He knows how grateful you are – not having many things or a lot of money saved, you probably would have moved back to the countryside if it weren’t for him. For a girl like you, it would be kissing your dreams goodbye. Not like sleeping on his couch is any better for someone your age. There is curry on the kitchen island. He recognises the packaging – generic brand from the convenience store he sometimes walked passed during missions in Asakusa. Hm. Last time he touched your cooking(four days before, when he actually managed to drag himself to the house without losing too much sweat) it was made from scratch. He isn’t complaining because he still wasn’t the one to cook it. Asking a girl in dire circumstances to play housewife would be… You don’t pay rent, you get half of the groceries from him(ever-lasting meal planning for everything, even when half of it gets thrown away after a nasty curse hunt is leaves him on the other side of the prefecture for few days in the row) and you don’t sleep on the couch. He has a perfectly comfortable guest bedroom with fresh sheets for you. 
Maybe, you could play housewife a little bit. It’s so stupid for someone in his position, but the packaging of a store-made curry almost made him question the decision to help you in the first place. He didn’t…didn’t expect you to cook for him, of course. He only took you in because being a young adult is tough and not having any friends in a city as expensive as Tokyo can crush a girl like you. He doesn’t know what is this feeling blooming in his chest. Maybe, the remains of the last exorcism are still clinging to him. — You found a job? You tilt your head, your (adorable) lips in a surprised impression. You probably never thought he’d give someone like you this much of his mind – not with how little you talked before. He might come off as too harsh – but he still looks you in the eyes, his gaze only softens because of the glasses he still insists on wearing even inside the house. Nanami promised to himself to not bring work home – but it’s hard to even determine what is home anymore. Maybe it’s a space on the couch, right next to your sprawled legs. Maybe it’s his bedroom. Maybe it’s… — Yes! It’s a convenience store, so it’s part-time, but… He frowns. You close your mouth immediately, lips pursed. Nanami doesn’t want to intimidate you – it’s just six thirty, already too late to be in a serious work mood – but it’s hard when you look simply divine with that scared impression of yours. He shouldn’t bully non-sorcerers, but some people are making it hard. Impossible. He almost understands Satoru. — This is all? — Well, they allowed me to pick more shifts, so I could actually start paying rent. N…not all, but just to thank you for letting me stay with you. You’re kind, he must give you that. Most people in your situation would already make him feel like overstaying their welcome, breaking the simple comfort he found in living on his own, and deflecting his family’s worries about not having anyone to settle down with. He isn’t thirty yet, he shouldn’t worry about it – yet, the thought itches at the back of his mind, Empty house. Most of his older coworkers were itching to ditch overtime because they wanted to meet with their families. He did it because after fighting curses(and returning to doing so) normal human life isn’t something he’d give much thought to.
— You don’t have to pay. I thought we established that. — I have to start somewhere, right? M…maybe I could save up and get a proper apartment. Still, Kento doesn’t like the idea that he might come home one day and won’t find you sitting on the couch and watching TV. Not because you just went out for a quick girl walk, or decided to go shopping – but because you got a big job, a normal job, and you won’t rely on his kindness anymore. 
Some people aren’t made to fend for themselves. Nanami wonders what would you look like if you ever saw a curse. If you were affected by at least one. He…he shouldn’t think like this. You’re lucky that you’re normal. — Paying for three months' rent, the key, and the debt would be impossible with a part-time store job. — I could live with a roommate! Or three… — What difference would it make for our current situation? He puts a hand on the back of the couch. Mere inches from your head – and he can see the surprised expression on your face only getting…more surprised. You are cute for a dropout – ahe he certainly doesn’t mind having you sleeping here. Taking care of the house for him. If he only knew that you also weren’t fully against the proper commitment to this place. Like that little job of yours has any value in terms of experience and…
— I don’t want to intrude too much, Nanami-san. I’ll just get out of your hair as soon as possible, yeah? He would love for you to get into his hair, come to think about it. He had some terrible headaches lately – maybe it’s the job taking its toll again, maybe it’s a lingering curse that he is too exhausted to notice. He doesn’t sense anything besides the overwhelming need for you to come around – and yet he knows he can’t expect you to do that. — I can pay you. 
— What? He wonders if the surprise on your face is going to be embedded in your features forever. He wonders what expression would you have if he’d proposed something more provocative. With something that would leave you panting and gasping and gaping. He shook his head. Too early for this – and too late, also. He already loosened his tie and it made the headache less permanent, but if he’d proceeded to imagine how your pathetic, useless (normal, college dropout) mouth wide around the base of his cock, he would have to excuse himself from the house altogether, Preferably moving back to the countryside you tried to run away from. — If you insist on working…there instead of taking time to actually improve yourself, I could pay you to watch over the house. You gulp, tensing up immediately. He must have come off too strong – but he is way too tired to control his tone, and you should be mature enough to handle the conversations like this. He wasn’t kicking you off – quite the contrary, in fact. But, young adults should take the time to be young. But, young adults should be serious enough to behave like adults – and you shouldn’t bury your ambitions while living with four roommates and their boyfriends and college and drinking and… Sometimes he forgets how not much older he is than you. Maybe this is why you’re so hesitant towards getting help from him – someone that you could imagine in the position of a boyfriend instead of a providing and caring figure. That’s bad, really. Nanami would like for you to see him as your husband. — I couldn’t accept it, Nanami-san. You’re already…already doing so much. “Too much” he can get from your frowned expression. Too much of a lonely man with a big house and no one to watch over it. Too much for a man who doesn’t acept any form of payment from you – a man who didn’t even insist on having you cook and clean, since he got a system that would be too much bother to teach someone other than him. System that you cracked in first few weeks, almost making him believe that the salryman dream he lost after returning to Jujutsu Tech, can be still obtained. Still within the reach of his fingers. 
The woman of his dreams – if a man like him allowed to have them – is sitting on his couch and gushes over paying him for letting her stay. Like he isn’t the one who should beg for her to not run away. Alas, even dream girls can be a bit…dumb. Stupid. Pathetic in a way that would be insane to anyone else. 
Nanami is ought to be a bit more firm with his dumb girl that still thinks she isn’t his. — I would appreciate you cooking way more than any money I’d have to take out of your savings. — But… — You shouldn’t rush into jobs just because you think I would throw you out. I won’t. — It’s…funny. In a way. 
— What is so funny? His hand creeps over the edge of your seat, edging on taking a handful of your hair and tugging. Not because he wanted to hurt you – but because setting you in place would be the desirable option right now. Your inability to believe in the kindness of his heart is almost adorable, if it weren’t also so frustrating. It’s a smart choice, although – would be insane to ask you to believe that a man who took you in did so out of the kindness of his heart. But, Kento doesn’t want for you to be smart and make choices that would benefit you. But, Kento wants for you to rely on him – and making smart choices isn’t going to include that. He could just force you, your weak points already accessed – he knows where to push, where to cut, where to ass a little pressure, so you’d stop being so stubborn. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but sometimes you need to crack a few eggs in the process. Sometimes being good doesn’t mean being nice. — I thought you really wanted to get rid of me at first, Nanami-san. He has been stealing your panties since you first stepped foot into his house. It was a mistake at first – neither you nor him knew how to live with someone so close after reaching adulthood and moving out of dorms where the social boundaries are much, much less permanent. You were silly and forgetful, sometimes mixing your laundry with his. Something as small as a pair of panties, no matter clean or not, were prone to get lost in the laundry area, forgotten in a pile of clothes you already washed – and if Nanami was a lesser man, he would have scolded you for not having the basic courtesy of keeping your things away from his. If Nanami was a bigger man he wouldn’t have slipped a lacey pair into a pocket of his pants, fidgeting on the fabric while you gushed over having to buy so many necessities all of a sudden, or apologized for wrecking havoc in his bathroom. Even now, when you’re embarrassed and warm, trying to explain your point of view to him, he is still playing with your underwear, buried deep within the pocket of his work clothes. He luckily didn’t run into Satoru today – he doesn’t really want to know if his Six Eyes could detect something as scandalous. Not in a normal sense, of course – you’re an adult, if a bit irresponsible – but in the form of him having connections. Someone to return to. 
Nanami wants to push you on your knees and take his rent right out of that surprised, open mouth of yours. You don’t wear any makeup, you’re at home, after all – but he would buy you some adorable lipstick, some sweet lipgloss, just so you could smear it all over his cock, choking and drooling. He wants to be a good man, a patient man, but he has your panties in his pocket already, and it’s always a fresh pair every few weeks – not enough to make you suspicious that this isn’t the washing machine eating it, but also desperately low for someone like him. 
He wonders if you would be even softer than the tender silk of the things you wear. — Why would you think I accepted you, then? 
He knows why you might be nervous – his attitude isn’t the most welcoming one. He can be soft if he has a reason you – but being soft for too long will make you spoiled. Bratty. He likes women with character, but not women with attitudes he can’t control. Even your sitting position, with both of your legs on a couch, is something he could change with a few spanks on the bare skin he can clearly see from under your shorts. Wearing this when there is a man in the house – how scandalous. How precious. He wonders if all the lingerie sets he already bought for you (getting exact sizes is quite easy when he already knows your proportions divided by 7), will be a nice look on you. For you. 
— Maybe it was your one good deed for the month, but then you’d get annoyed and… He touches you – for the first time in weeks. Maybe the first time since he shook your hand all those time ago. The first time he touched you while you weren’t sleeping, at least. Fully conscious, aware of the man in front of you. (Nanami liked to watch you sleep, sometimes. Stressed people have a bad habit of attracting curses, and he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t invite anything in the safety of his house. It’s what he keeps telling himself when he inevitably ended up at the food of your bed, hands on his cock, stroking it slowly, knowing a dumb girl – naive girl – won’t wake up even if he’d decide to finish on your face. He never would – not until you’d ask him to, at least. He hopes that he will be a good person even after you do) Nanami’s hand is on your cheek, holding you softly. Gently. You’re surprised because this is the first time he touched you so softly – so intimately. You’re blissfully unaware of the fact he was touching you so, so much already. Stroking your ass, your tits, your face when he felt particularly tender – when he knew you were too tired of whatever you were doing while being unemployed and having everything catered to you to notice that he is touching you. — I won’t get annoyed with you. 
You press your face against his hand, taking in his touch. He has soft hands – cared for, manicured carefully. He takes care of his appearance and you’re embarrassed to appreciate that about it. To even notice – he isn’t yours, probably doesn’t want to be, but he allows you to live in his house even though you suck at being a proper housewife, and it should mean something. It does mean something – you smile and close your eyes. You want to do something for him because he already did so much for you. The possibilities are making your ears burn. — How can I repay you if you don’t want rent then? He can think of a few ways. The possibilities will make your ears burn. — You can start by actually cooking. 
And he will call in to fire you later. 
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h34rtbeat · 4 months
Note
what about non con with Heeseung and Sunghoon
NIGHT SHIFTS
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warnings: non con, oral (m.receiving), p in v sex, public sex (?) , slapping, hair pulling, degradation. HARD non-con, and hard dom!heeseung, softer but still hard dom sunghoon
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working late wasn’t necessarily fun, nor was it boring. every now and then you’d get some crazy people, but it was a gas station, what could you expect?
sure here and there some person would come in, yelling and screaming, yet nothing was as scary as now.
two very attractive men walked in, not strange— many come in after clubbing. but these guys were clean. nice jawline, one of them paler than the other, yet both were shining.
working at a convenience store wasn’t ever bad, not until someone attractive walked in.
dressed in a black shirt, a skirt and some fleece tights. the black shirt being a collared polo, with the company logo. that wasn’t charming at all. sometimes paired with a simple black zip up like tonight, since it was chilly.
especially not when these two men are gorgeous— probably the hottest men you’ve seen walk in this stupid gas station.
they wore hoodies and sweats, though only one had a hood on. you didn’t know his name, yet he knew yours because of your name tag. grabbing numerous chip bags and some sweet bread from the isles, they approached.
“having a goodnight?” you asked, not because you were actually curious, but to make some small talk.
“…so so.” one of them replied. the other one- the paler one was either zoning out, or his stare was really just that intense.
“you have a pretty name.” the same one— tanned one, spoke. he pointed at your name tag, making you a bit flustered.
“thanks.” you replied, still scanning other items.
then, you saw one— the paler one— lean over and whisper something in his friends ear. you saw the other one, the tanned one, have a face feigning shock. not super shocked, like a “oh?”
“your total is 15.2-“ your sentence cut short by one, the paler one this time,
“i uhm.. forgot my wallet. is there any other way we can pay?” you look between the two men. they both looked a bit amused.
“do.. you have your card on your phone?” you asked, there was always paying methods.
the tanned one spoke out again “no, well.. we were thinking of other ways to pay it back.”
“uhm.. i’m sorry i can’t think of any other way? Unless you guys have some sort of membership here.” you gestured towards the window, showing that there was an app.
“damn, she’s stupid..” one rubbed his face.
then, the paler one looked directly at you.
“hey, can you show me where the bathroom is?” you were about to point.
“no, like.. can you show me?”
you gulped. but nodded. you stepped out from behind the register, and began to walk towards the bathroom. why were you terrified? you had showed the bathroom before. it was behind a storage room for some reason.
you checked behind your shoulder to make sure he was still following, but then you saw both of them. maybe both of them needed to use the restroom, right?
taking a turn, you finally reached the storage room. where the bathroom was.
“and.. it’s right over h-mmph!”
a slender hand grabbing you, shutting your mouth while your back ended pressed up against the other one. panic filled your senses, and your wrists were held by the other guy.
“you know, you’re a real pretty gas station worker. usually it’s some old dude, but you…” the tan one leaned in, “are just… so young and pretty.”
“do you wanna know who we are?” the tan one asked, and you looked up at him, shaking your head.
“our friends come here sometimes… one of them, he’s real young. he thinks you’re real cute. you seen him? he has.. blond-ish hair..” he scoffed, before continuing “never mind , there’s probably a thousand guys with blonde hair.”
“be nice, she doesn’t understand what we’re doing.” the pale one said. “why don’t we tell her our names? i doubt this chick will snitch anyway.” he unzipped your sweater, with one hand. he took his hand off your mouth, to discard your zip up.
you squirmed, thrashing against the tanned one, not wanting to be touched.
“stop it— don’t touch m-“ a tug of your hair, pulling your head back, and the tan one was tongue deep in your mouth, clashing your lips together.
“she’s gonna be loud, huh..” the pale one mumbled, already meshing your boobs together through the polo. “my name’s sunghoon.. his name is heeseung..”
heeseung pulled off your lips, releasing your wrists so he could start rubbing your waist. “you’re pretty and your body feels nice.. how in the world did you end up in a gas station?”
in any other situation that you’d create in your mind, you’d try to scream and punch, but your waist was gripped so hard that you couldn’t move.
sunghoon moved in, now he was kissing you. they were going to have their fun with you, even if you didn’t want to.
heeseung seemed to just be observing, sunghoons hands still clamped on your breasts as he was sloppily eating you alive. heeseungs hands slipped lower, til they found themselves under your skirt.
you let out a shriek in sunghoons mouth, but he would only pull away if he needed to breathe, not if you did. he didnt care if you didn’t like it, because he did.
“a nice ass too…” heeseung muttered, flipping your skirt up completely. sunghoon pulled off of you, completely moving his hands off.
you thought maybe then— they’d both stop. then, behind you, you heard a slight shuffling noice, and you were flipped around, shoved to your knees.
you couldn’t utter a word of defense, heeseungs cock shoved right between your lips.
“Fuck— oh, you’re real pretty, so pretty..” he moaned, pushing your head down so you’d take him fully. He wanted to torture you, to see how you’d take it.
Fully aware that sunghoon was still behind you, even as your nails dug into heeseungs thighs. All that could be heard in that silent store, was your choking and gagging noises, and heeseungs moans.
“She’s a slut, I told you..” you heard sunghoon mutter, you could hear him lean against one of the storage shelves as your mouth was being used like a fleshlight.
“Heeseung, lift her up.” Sunghoon said, and heeseung groaned.
“why? can’t you see.. she’s enjoying herself.” heeseung mocked, your eyes brimming with tears, having on his cock.
“i think she’s ready to fuck, that’s why.” sunghoon muttered.
heeseung tugged your hair, pulling your mouth off.
“guess we’ll just have to keep her bent over…” heeseung says, as he forced you up. sunghoons hands pushed at your back, so you bent over, your nose dragging along heeseungs dick.
you felt a breeze against your ass now, yet you didn’t hear a rip. seemed this guy had enough decent to not rip your fleece tights.
“this bitch is wearing fleece tights.. i can’t even rip ‘em.” sunghoon cursed, slipping your panties to the side.
“that means she’s cold. we gotta keep her warm then, yeah” heeseung laughed, as he kept rubbing his dick, moving it across your face.
“did you grab those condoms off the counter?” heeseung asked, putting himself back in your mouth, just the tip this time.
sunghoon fiddled with the band of his pants, bringing them down only enough for his dick to spring out.
“no. I wanted to fuck her raw.” your eyes widened, and you looked up at heeseung, as if begging him to say no.
“do whatever.” heeseung laughed. “this bitch wants to beg.”
“mhm..” sunghoon took one final look at your sopping cunt, before sliding right in. “oh.. fuck…” he almost came from how right you were.
“is this bitch a virgin?” sunghoon almost laughed, beginning his deep thrusts.
“don’t think so.. she’s suckin’ my dick like a whore.” heeseung continued his hair pulling antics, and your body was forced to take sunghoon and heeseung deeper, the thrust moving your body involuntarily.
“fuck.. uh.. ah..” sunghoon moaned, landing a light slap on your ass. “clenching tighter? bet you’re enjoying all this, huh? you liked being fucked by two guys at your workplace?”
“nasty ass slut.” heeseung cursed. he could hear the way you gagged around him, he likes it more now that your tears were actually spilling down your cheeks. the lip gloss you wore was smeared all over his dick.
“oh.. fuck.. i’m gonna cum inside of her, yeah..” sunghoon mumbles, and you made a noise against heeseung.
“bro.. what if she gets pregnant.” heeseung questioned, even though he was suffocating you with his dick.
“no fuckin’ way. ask her if she’s on the pill.”
heeseung slapped your cheek. “you on the pill?”
you wanted to lie, to shake your head no, but you felt that either way, they didn’t care. it was better to be honest.
you nodded.
“she wants me to cum inside.. uh.” sunghoon grunted, before you could protest, heeseung pulled your face off, making your tongue loll out. he painted your face with his semen, making sure to leave some on your tongue.
“good slut.. i’ll have to come back and fuck you like he did sometime. swallow.” heeseung tapped your chin with his thumb, and you complied, closing your mouth and swallowing.
sunghoon did his quietly, cumming inside your cunt and forcing you to keep it in. he didn’t say anything as he tucked himself back in.
some part of you kind of wished it didn’t end.
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I don't think I'll ever get over how Organization XIII was hyped up as this super nefarious villain group but then you get to their game 358/2 Days and they treat it like a job. A 9-5 soul crushing job. They have their daily menial tasks and then they go home and wash, rinse, repeat with little else occupying their lives. Even their hobbies and pastimes seem so limited, although you can arguably chalk that up to the game just not being interested in developing them like that (which is part of why the manga is great, because it has a tendency of developing them in ways the main writers aren't interested in). From the way they talk about it, they almost sound like they work at an office sometimes. A very bizarre, particularly backstabby office, but still. It's a soul crushing job AND a weird cult all at once and it's treated with this mundanity that's both hilarious in a way I didn't really get when it first came out and oddly humanizing.
I know for some dumb reason they didn't do a remake of Days and it's harder to access because of that, but if you can and it interests you enough to where you've wondered if it was worth playing, I really recommend playing it or watching a playthrough of the actual game instead of just the cutscenes. The story really is partly told through the mechanics and so much is lost when they just gave us the cutscenes pulled from the game in the compilations.
They really reinforce how bleak and mundane Roxas' life is most of the time, how bleak and mundane most of the members' lives are. How much control the Organization has over them. You don't just level up organically like in other kh games, you have to do this weird puzzle thing that limits your growth and abilities. They don't give you munny, they give you heart points that you can only use at the moogle shop in their castle, so they're literally paid in scrip. If you're unfamiliar with it, scrip is a currency you can only use in certain places instead of throughout a whole country or other type of political union like the eu, usually with the store at the company you work at. When you're on missions your path is blocked off, you can only go to certain areas that are directly related to your daily mission. It's suffocating and genius, especially since in most other series entries you get so much freedom comparatively.
With all that context it starts making some of their vices a bit more understandable. Can you really blame Demyx for not wanting to do his work when all he gets out of it is room and board, and the distant, vague promise of maybe someday getting a new heart? Especially since he's probably been with the Organization for years?
Can you really blame Marluxia and Larxene for wanting to mutiny when their boss is useless and all of their colleagues seem indifferent to it? I mean like. The murder isn't great. I'm still a bit sore about that. But I can definitely get behind the 'screw our boss' sentiment. I'm still very fond of my 'instead of going the cloak and dagger route Larxene and Marluxia somehow, possibly with the help of devil magic, manage to get everyone to cooperate so they can unionize and kick Xemnas out' au. An Organization XIII union au, if you will. Imagine Xemnas having to explain that to the other Xehanorts.
Master Xehanort: The people you gathered up for us to use as our vessels. Unionized?
Xemnas, the biggest loser in the entire series: :/
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Hybrid!txt when you smell like someone else
Warnings: gender neutral reader, but for Taehyun's reader is mentioned to have a boyfriend. I should probably mention that when I write hybrids, I don't really picture people with animal features like ears and tails, just animal senses and behaviours? That should help this make more sense. This could also work for werewolves if you prefer to imagine it that way!
Note: this has been sitting in my drafts for months, it kept getting pushed back by other ideas. So glad to get it out. Please let me know which is your favourite scenario!
☆ gender neutral reader
Soobin
You were standing in the kitchen filling the sink with water to start the dishes when you heard the front door. It was game night; the night your boyfriend and his friends ordered in dinner and hogged the TV to play games until they wore each other out, or on some occasions, to tears. So you didn't mind doing the dishes tonight, even though it was technically Soobin’s turn.
"Yah, what's that smell?”
You turned to see Soobin and Beomgyu appear in the kitchen, bags from the convenience store slung over Beomgyu’s shoulder, a telltale sign that he'd lost at rock paper scissors. “Hi guys.”
"Is someone here?" Soobin asked, glancing down the hallway. You shook your head and he immediately dropped his confused expression, his face scrunching in disgust. “Then what smells like dog?”
"I don't... oh. It's probably my new boss, we had a meeting today." After all the time you'd been with Soobin, all the time you'd spent around his friends, you were still not that used to this whole thing. You couldn't always spot their kind, and sometimes you forgot about your boyfriend's intense senses, though you had gotten better since you started dating.
Beomgyu placed the bags atop the counter and scratched the back of his head. "The other guys will be here in a minute, so..." He looked up at Soobin who met his eyes.
This was another thing that happened often. It was like they could just lock eyes and know what the other was thinking without saying a word. The two seemed to finish their silent conversing, turning back to you, matching grins growing on their faces. Your eyes darted between the two of them, trying to get a clue as to what you were left out of the loop about, before they were coming at you. Sandwiching you between them, they both began rubbing their cheeks against yours, scenting you as you squirmed.
"Is this what you're going to smell like every day now?" Soobin asked into your hair.
Beomgyu was finding this funny, his laughter in your ear as you whined in complaint. "You reek! Maybe it's time to find a new job."
Once they were satisfied with their work, they stood back, chuckling at how mussed up your hair was from their handiwork. You pouted up at them and they were even more amused.
The doorbell rang before Yeonjun let himself in, the door still being unlocked. He waltzed into the kitchen with Taehyun in tow. "Who's ready to get whoop-" his face fell and his eyes began to search the floor, before looking between you and Soobin, brows furrowed. "Did you guys get a dog or something?"
Before Beomgyu or Soobin could do anything except smirk at you, you were turning on your heel and announcing that you were going to take a shower.
Yeonjun
When he arrives home, straight away his senses hone in on your jacket hanging over the porch railing, soaking wet—yet still he can smell what you've tried to erase. As soon as you hear his key in the door you’re there explaining, before he can utter a single word.
"This guy at the bus stop was all over me. I had to get a different bus so he wouldn’t be with me on the way here."
He stops midway through taking off his own coat, the shoulders of the garment hanging at his elbows. You hear the strain in his voice, see the fervor flash through his eyes. "What do you mean all over you?"
"He put his arm around me. He kept putting his face close to my ear to ask me questions… but-but I washed my hair when I got home. I washed my jacket twice but I wasn't sure if it would still get to you, so l left it outside. I'm sorry."
His expression faded as he relaxed a little. Still he kept his concentration solely on you as he pulled his hands from his sleeves and hung the coat up. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. Did he do anything else, anything more? Are you okay?"
You sighed tiredly, glad Yeonjun was home and you could have dinner and relax together and put the day behind you. “No, I’m fine.”
Stepping forward, he pulled you into his arms and pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “That’s all that matters.”
Beomgyu
Beomgyu stepped out of the cool night air and into the small store you worked in. He always picks you up when you work the night shift, preferring to drive you home than you taking the bus so late.
You haven't yet noticed his presence, despite the place being empty, busy tidying the shop for closing. As he slinks over to you, you reach up on your tip toes to put something away on a high shelf, and he means to put his arms around you to surprise, but something made him stop short behind you.
"Not again," he says, making you jump out of your skin.
"Gyu!" you yelp. "Don't do that!"
He pouts. "You smell like not you."
Pulling the fabric of your shirt to your nose and inhaling, you shake your head. "I don't smell anything."
You move off to the front desk, Beomgyu trailing behind, still complaining. "Of course you don't smell it, you pure-bred human—" and when you send him a look, he adds, "—affectionately. You just have to take my word for it."
He watches as you clock out and untie the apron from your waist, looking up at him tiredly. "Let's just go home, okay?"
He nods, and after turning off the lights and locking the doors, you make the short walk to his car. It's still warm inside, and it's such a relief to sit down after hours on your feet. You let your head rest back against the seat and look up at your boyfriend as he puts the key in the ignition.
"Thank you," you say tiredly.
As he looks over at you, he grabs something from the mirror and holds it out to you. Taking it from him, you look down to inspect what you've been given—his car air freshener. "You're welcome."
Taehyun
Taehyun couldn't hide his smile as he opened the door, until he got a whiff of something he didn't like. "Hey," he said, trying to act casual despite his senses waving tiny red flags at him. Yet, before he could stop himself, he was asking, "Where have you been?"
He watched as you took off your shoes, a hard task with your hands occupied with the pile of books and stationary you'd brought for studying, and usually Taehyun would be a gentleman and take them for you, but right now his mind was distracted.
"I stopped at my boyfriend's place. I'm sorry, am I late?"
Your boyfriend. He hadn't known you had a boyfriend... had he? He tried to rack brain, think of who you hung out with at school as he lead you into the house. "Oh... no, uhm..."
You walked across him to put your stuff down at the table and he got a stronger smell of the scent that hovered around you. Your boyfriend was definitely not completely human. He wondered if you knew. He wondered if he could compose himself enough to study with this smell hanging around.
"Let's get started," you were saying as you took a seat.
Taehyun tried to ignore his thoughts as he sat with you, listening to you talk about the assignment and dividing tasks. He did his best to focus on the words you were saying, your voice, your eyes, anything he could hold onto. But his instincts were strong. He stood up suddenly, your eyes following him, mouth forming a question. "Would you like anything? To eat or drink?"
Your expression cleared of confusion. "Sure, water would be nice."
Thankful to busy himself and get a break, he walked over to the kitchen and filled one glass, then another, breathing deeply all the while to try to calm his system. As he returned to the table, you were coming back from the front hall, suddenly without your jacket on. You reached out and took one of the glasses from him and sat down once more. He noticed that most of the scent was gone; he could bear being so close to you now.
"I really like that jacket you were wearing," he commented nonchalantly between discussions of school work.
You looked up from your notes with a smile. "Oh yeah? Me too. It's my boyfriend's, I'm always stealing it when I can."
He nodded, trying to keep the small smile from fading. It's okay, I'm okay, his mind was trying to console him. It probably wouldn't work out between the two of you anyway... right?
Huening Kai
He found you on the couch, laying on your side, tucked into a ball. “Hi hun,” he spoke softly, knowing this habit of yours meant something was up. He wasn’t going to bring up the scent he had picked up before he’d even opened the front door just yet.
You peeked up at him and he could tell you were exhausted. “Hi." His smile and his eyes were so warm that you immediately blurted out what was wrong without him needing to ask. "I went to a party.”
“Oh?" Your voice was so small and meak it tugged at Kai’s heart. "A party?”
“I didn’t want to go but my friends… they dragged me there, and I… I’m pretty sure everyone there was…” You pressed your lips together.
“Stinky,” he finished for you with a playful scrunch of his nose.
Nodding, you uncurled yourself to make room for your boyfriend on the couch. He sat and reached for your hand, holding it inside his big, warm one. His hands were always warm. He was always warm. It was one of your favourite things.
“It was kinda scary,” you admitted. At this, he tugged your hand towards him, a sign for you to come closer, and soon you were tucked into his lap.
"I know," he said softly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms soothingly. "I know it's still all new to you."
Humming in agreement, you allowed your head to fall into the crook of his neck. This was the place you felt safest in the whole world, even before you knew that the world was not as you had always thought.
Kai's voice rumbled through his chest, vibrating through you as he spoke. "Maybe a bath might help you relax."
You looked up at him, and he brought his face down to rub his nose against yours, his trademark show of affection with you. "Do I really smell that bad?"
The boy couldn't hide his smirk. "Just a little."
written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form
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kaijutegu · 5 months
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As if you needed another reason not to listen to Jay Brewer/Prehistoric Pets
Of all the reptile influencers, Jay Brewer is my least favorite. Let's see what he is up to today!
Recently this colossal idiot pet store owner who pretends he has any real knowledge about natural history went field herping. He grabbed a wild rattlesnake and filmed himself popping its genitalia for field sexing, without having ANYBODY CONTROLLING THE HEAD.
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He just put his snake hook on top of it and popped out its genitals. In this incredibly unsafe video, he not only put himself and the snake at risk, but he claims it's educational- and that's why he did it.
Only thing is, he's wrong, and in fact spends time spreading misinformation. Let's take a look at some of his comments. This is the caption to his video.
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The "nodes" are the hemipenes. He says that if there was one, it would be a girl. Thing is, girl snakes don't have hemipenes. While they do have hemiclitorises, those don't evert like hemipenes do. If "a node" comes out when you pop (read: bend a snake's tail back at the cloaca, forcing the genitals to emerge), you've given your snake a cloacal prolapse. This can kill them, but mill-style breeder Jay Brewer does not care about the lives of animals. We've known this. He doesn't care about his own snakes- he cuts eggs for funsies, he keeps giant snakes in drawers, and he regularly puts peoples' safety at risk for viral videos. But he also clearly doesn't care about the lives of wild animals.
What else has he said?
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So here's a thought: Maybe your audience shouldn't know that they can pop a rattlesnake's hemipenes out of its cloaca because that is fucking dangerous. Not all information is good information to share in the Instagram format! Sometimes the general public shouldn't see you casually doing something dangerous without explaining what it is or why you're doing it!
Just wanting to know the sex of a snake in the field, when you're not actually doing any real research, is not a valid reason to do something this risky. Part of education is knowing what's actually educational. Another part is knowing how to appropriately frame dangerous activities so that you don't make your audience think that it's something anybody can go out and do. One of the things that makes me so upset about this video is the complete lack of context. It's not just that he has zero respect for a venomous animal, it's that he has zero respect for his audience.
Also, in the audio of his video, he doesn't call them hemipenes. He doesn't provide the most basic education he claims he does! He's just messing with an animal for the sake of messing with it!
He also promulgates a lie that popping doesn't cause the snake any harm, which is not what even most breeders say about it. Now, luckly, the snake seemed fine in this case. But there are plenty of people, mostly pet owners, who have lost snakes because they've tried to pop incorrectly and broken their snake's spine around the cloaca. Between the inability to eliminate correctly and infection caused from wounds, popping is one of the riskiest- and most unnecessary things- you can do to a pet snake.
Good breeders and snakekeepers do not take videos of themselves popping their snakes and put it on instagram and pretend it's educational. You pop snakes to guarantee the sex of the animal, and you do it ONLY when they are very young. Older snakes have more muscle control and it can hurt them pretty badly.
Even Spruce Pets knows that popping can cause your snake significant trauma, but fine, whatever. Let's traumatize random venomous snakes for Instagram views!
Also, he's just completely uninformed! Take this answer:
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Probably? No, the answer is an easy yes. Rattlesnakes lose rattles all the time. They lose rattles due to terrain, to genetic deformity (some rattlers never form them!), and to predation attempts. It's just keratin. They're fine without it. Any real herpetologist would know this. If he can't get basic facts right, how can he be trusted to get more complicated stuff right?
And yeah, maybe this whole post is a little unhinged. But I hate this man and his practices so much. I hate that he's the face of an industry that could be so much better if it weren't for people like him. I hate that he's getting a TV show. I hate that people encounter his media and think that anything he does is a good idea. At least Brian Barczyck tries these days and actually promotes good care and safety at the Reptarium, but all Jay wants is popularity. He has zero respect for animals, and I loathe and detest that he's the face of our hobby.
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inbarfink · 7 months
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Interesting to note that Fionnaworld losing it's magic is not the only thing that changed about it when Ice King was turned back into Simon Petrikov. The 'side-effects' of it being in Simon's head seem to have... inverted.
Because the whole thing about Fionnaworld being in Ice King's head is that this is how he 'got the idea' for his 'Fionna and Cake' stories. Even though Ice King was supposed to just be 'a big nutty hard-drive', it seems like IK's subconsciousness had some sort of a connection to Fionnaworld and absorbed information from it - that Ice King's conscious self then put into his stories.
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This... doesn't seem to be the case with Simon. You know, it's not like he goes 'oh, I get ideas for Fionna and Cake stories sometimes I just don't want to write them because I associate them too much with the Trauma of being Ice King' or even "I can't relate to Fionna and Cake anymore! But I do have some ideas for a pre-war era story about the quarter-life crisis of a blonde girl also coincidentally named Fionna!".
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There's no indication that he gets any sort of 'ideas' from the Fionnaworld in his head anymore, a fact that he attribute to, just, a lack of interest in the characters.
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Maybe one could speculate that Ice King's magic-infused mind gave it more of an ability to connect to the AU God Shoved in His Head. But.... Simon Petrikov's subconscious is still connected to it on some level. As we can see by the fact Simon's thoughts and immediate surrounding keep effecting the events going on in Fionnaworld.
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Did this ever happen with Ice King? It's really hard to say, since we've seen so little of the 'real' Magical Fionnaworld. It was almost always filtered via the lens of Ice King's 'fanfiction'. Like, most obvious examples of 'Fionna and Cake' stuff being influenced by IK's psyche are probably just supposed to be him rewriting the stories in an inaccurate way.
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But still, since Prismo was also actively 'writing stories' for Fionnaworld, and he considered it his own personal creative outlet, and since he found Ice King to be a satisfactory 'hard drive' for it all... Like, I'm going to assume that if IK's subconscious had a noticeble effect of the events of the Magical Fionnawrold - Prism wouldn't have been happy with it.
What I think is going on is related less to the matter of the magical-ness of Simon's brain and more to the other factor that Prismo mentioned in regards for picking Ice King's brain
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It's emptiness.
Under the effect of the Magic Crown's Curse, Simon has lost most of his long-term (and sometimes even short-term) memories and, like, a lot of knowledge and intellectual skills he used to have. And that meant... a lot of space to store a whole-ass universe in his head, with probably also room to spare.
And maybe even the emptiness of IK's 'cursed dome' acted a bit like a vacuum - causing some information from Fionnaworld to leak into his mind.
But once Simon became himself again, all of this information and knowledge was restored inside his head. And maybe most of the experience of being Ice King is just 'dream-like impressions' like he said back in 'Betty' - but he still seems to retain some memories of these 1000 years as well. Back in 'Betty' he seems to have immediately remembered Finn and Jake, and after being permanently cured, well... he does seem to at least remember the events of "I Remember You' vividly enough to try and recreate them.
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So now Fionnaworld is in a head full to the brim with stuff and... well, now it's, like, smooshed up with all of these elements of Simon's mind and psyche. Metaphorically, I'm visualizing it as, like, a bunch of items shoved inside an overstuffed cupboard and Fionnaworld is getting squashed and bent according to the shape of Simon's thoughts and memories that are shoved up close beside it. Less 'breathing room' for the world, and so Simon's thoughts can subconsciously affect the world more. But Fionnaworld information isn't leaking out anymore cause, like, there's enough out-there already.
That might also explain why Fionnaworld seems to be so damn small. Not even a full city as much as a few blocks.
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It should be about as large as the actual Land of Ooo, but it might've shrank to be 'compact' enough to still fit into Simon's no-longer-empty mind.
(But now that they're free from his head and also canonized that's no longer a concern. It's alright now.)
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