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#and I didn’t even have to write it myself
supernovafics · 3 days
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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 1.4k words
warnings: explicit language, fluff
summary: in which steve’s parents are out of town for the weekend so you and him decide to have a barbecue at his house
author's note: i’ve been in a bit of rut with this universe/series lately so i wanted to just write something short and fun for these two<3333
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Summer 1986
It was probably obvious that both you and Steve didn’t need to go inside to grab the buns and ketchup— that was definitely just a one-person job— but nobody questioned either of you as you headed inside to the kitchen. 
The kids were swimming in the pool, and everyone else was sitting around the patio table. You were pretty sure that Eddie was about to start an impromptu game of truth or dare that Robin seemed enthused about, but Nancy and Jonathan seemed the opposite. All in all, it was safe to say that no one was really paying attention to you or Steve right then.
His arms were circling around you from behind right as the door fell shut behind you both. 
You let out a soft laugh at the abrupt action, but still immediately leaned into his touch. “I’m starting to think that you didn’t wanna come in here just to grab the stuff for the burgers.” 
“Yes, I’ll admit that I had an ulterior motive,” His mouth brushed right against your ear and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “It’s just been really hard to keep my hands to myself for the past few hours— especially seeing you in this bathing suit— and I wanted us to finally be alone for a second.”
Everyone knew about you and Steve, and they had for months at this point, but you both still liked to try and keep the PDA in front of your friends to a minimum. Mainly because of the collective playful groan in disgust you two would receive whenever you kissed for a second longer than was considered decent or when you’d get a bit too handsy with one another in front of everyone. 
That didn’t mean that it was easy to not be so outwardly affectionate with each other. And you knew that if it hadn’t been Steve coaxing you into the kitchen, away from everyone else to steal a kiss or more right then, it probably would’ve been you doing it. 
You shifted around to face him and the towel that you had draped around your shoulders slipped off as your arms came up to rest on his bare shoulders and then circle his neck. 
“I’ve had this bathing suit for practically forever.” 
“Yes, and probably every time I’ve seen you in it, I’ve almost exploded.”
You playfully rolled your eyes but still smiled. “That’s definitely not true.”  
“It’s very true,” He told you as he guided you backward so that you were pressed up against the counter. “We may have been just friends back then, but I wasn’t blind to how hot you are.” 
You could feel your face warm at his words and you only smiled wider at him. “You’re very, very hot too.”
The sound of everyone talking and laughing outside faded away when Steve’s head dipped down a bit and his lips slotted against yours. His hands found your hips, fingers pressing into the exposed skin. He quickly lifted you onto the counter, which made you let out a surprised yelp against his mouth, but you didn’t pull away from him. Your fingers carded through his damp hair and any thought of getting what you were supposed to grab from the kitchen was long forgotten. 
Even the thought of what was happening outside slipped from your mind— the barbecue that Steve had suggested doing as a celebration of sorts because Summer had just started, the kids finished their first year of high school, and everyone else had graduated just a few days ago. 
You weren’t thinking about that or the fact that it was the first weekend of many that his parents would be gone for the Summer, so days like this would definitely be happening more often than not. 
All you could focus on was Steve’s mouth on yours and his fingers beginning to teasingly slip inside the waistband of your red and white bathing suit bottoms; he so easily turned your mind into a pile of mush. You let out a soft sound that only egged him on further and you were certain that he would’ve pulled the damp fabric right off of you if it wasn’t for the sound of the door that led to the backyard opening. 
You were detaching from each other immediately and you hopped off the counter, quickly reaching down to grab your towel that had fallen and place it back around your shoulders. 
Max squinted at you both for a second and then she shook her head. “Ew, I don’t even wanna know what you two were just doing.”
“We’re just grabbing the buns and ketchup,” Steve said with a quick shrug and you simply nodded in agreement. 
“Mhm, yeah, right,” She deadpanned before heading off in the direction of the bathroom. 
You stepped away from Steve and went into the pantry to finally grab the hamburger buns and ketchup. 
“Do your parents come back tomorrow or Monday?”
“Monday.”
“Okay, that gives us more than enough time to clean up then,” You said as you turned back to face him and handed over the ketchup. “Because this place will probably be a mess after everyone stays over tonight.”
“Very true,” He nodded. “Y’know, I’m just realizing that we’ve never… done anything in my old room.”
He didn’t outwardly say what he meant, but you read through the lines pretty easily. 
“And we definitely aren’t going to do anything tonight,” You told him with a shake of your head. “You’re way too loud for that.”
He softly laughed. “I think that’s all you.” 
In all honesty, it was probably equal, but you didn’t want to admit that right then. 
Steve leaned in to kiss you but you turned your head at the last second so his lips grazed your cheek instead. 
“Come on, we need to head back outside,” You told him, but before you made it anywhere near the door, he placed the ketchup on the kitchen counter and pulled you back toward him again. 
You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his eagerness. “Steve.”
He placed the sweetest kiss against your neck and then your cheek. “Just one more second.”
That was a complete lie and you were certain of it; one second, one minute, one anything, always turned into much, much longer. But you still felt yourself finally nodding at him anyway. 
“Okay,” You mumbled, maneuvering around to face him which made your towel fall again. He didn’t waste a second to lean in and kiss you, and his hands quickly found your waist, softly stroking the parts of your skin that your bathing suit didn’t cover. Your free hand went up to the nape of his neck so that you could push yourself closer to him; chest to chest, skin against skin. 
You had a feeling that he was going to lead you over to the counter again and lift you back onto it, and then settle himself between your spread legs again for the time being— which would completely go against his “one more second” statement, but you honestly would’ve been fine with that. 
But then, you heard the bathroom door down the hall open and then shut and you two were abruptly pulling away from each other again. 
“Okay, we actually need to head back outside,” You told him as you reached down to grab your towel. 
“Fine, fine,” Steve said and started following you out the door. He helped you adjust your towel back over your shoulders and then placed the quickest, and probably most chaste, kiss against your cheek. Still, though, you felt your heart warm at the action and you were smiling widely at him. 
“Hey, lovebirds, truth or dare?” Eddie asked as you and Steve headed over to the patio table. 
You shrugged as you placed the buns down. “I don’t know, truth, I guess.”
“What were you two just doing in the kitchen?” He asked, the tiniest of a smirk on his face. 
You hesitated for a second— a second that actually felt like so much longer— before responding. “Oh, um, we were grabbing the ketchup and buns for the burgers, duh.” 
Steve nodded. “Yup.”
Eddie shook his head, laughing a bit. “Horrible, horrible liars. Where’s the ketchup?”
You turned to Steve— because you remembered that you had handed the ketchup to him when you were back inside— and immediately noticed his empty hands. “Steve.”
“Shit, my bad.”
Seconds later, Max was emerging from the house, bottle of ketchup in hand. “You guys forgot this.” 
She placed it on the table and then headed back over to the pool. 
“So, the question still stands,” Eddie said. “What were you two doing in there?” 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
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latenightdaydreams · 2 days
Note
https://twitter.com/jorgez86/status/1786091450238926874?t=qpE0itH41pxOOlJjXdrfNg&s=19
Can you write about Konig who can't stop touching his girlfriend's boobies?
I know I'm sending a lot of requests at the same time but I had to hold myself back to not text you because I know request closed for a reason. Please don't feel obligated or overwhelmed, I just send it and it's okay if you ignore my request, because you're a just human being!❤️❤️❤️
That woman is blessed with the sorest of all backs😮‍💨 Never feel bad for sending them! 🥰🥰
Just a Few Hours (fem)
MDNI 🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, groping, dirty talk
1.1k word count
💒
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Big breast was never a requirement for dating. Sure, König loved watching porn with big breasts, but he’s found all breast sizes have their perks. Plus, he can’t exactly be picky. Tall, awkward, and not exactly handsome; he had trouble pulling anyone.
When home from deployment, König tried to find some sort of peace. He would go to the local park early in the morning before it became crowded with kids and cheerful people. It was one of the few moments in his life where things felt okay. The chaos could just stop.
Little did he know you, this big breasted goddess, also felt the same way about early mornings in the park. From the corner of his eye he saw you approaching, the slight jiggle from your breasts noticeable to him. Turning his neck to see you head on, his jaw literally dropped. Underneath your loose-fitting band t, your breast bounced so perfectly.
“Hallo.” The words fell out of his mouth before he even realized it.
You looked over to see the most beautiful icy blue eyes gazing up at you as he sat on the floor by a tree.
“Hi.” You smiled so sweetly his way.
One impulsive hello sparked a full two-year relationship. König genuinely fell in love with who you are as a person, your breasts just being a massive perk imaginable. No matter the situation, König can’t keep his hands to himself.
Normally, you wouldn’t mind, but today is your friend’s wedding. König drives the both of you as he sulks about the time he has to spend away from you. One hand on the steering wheel, the other cupping your breast.
“Schatz, I’m going to go crazy being without you for a whole day.” This middle finger lightly flicks over your nipple through the fabric of your evening dress. The dress required you to not wear a bra. König, of course, didn’t mind; but now he would be a fool the whole time.
“König, I’m literally going to be right next to you the whole time.”
“Ja, but I can’t touch you.” He glances over at his hand on your breast, softly jiggling it.
“You’re too much König.” You laugh, shaking your head.
“Can you blame me? You’re perfect.” He reaches his hand behind the fabric and pulls out the breast he’s been playing with. “Other one too.” He demands you to take it out.
“König, you’re driving. Someone could see.”
“I’ll drive safe…plus the windows are tinted. Come on.” He doesn’t take no for an answer, so you oblige and take out your other breast.
“Mein Gott…” Every time seeing your breasts is like the first time again.
He moves his hands over and squeezes both of your breasts before his fingers play with your nipples. He gives attention to both of them equally. You let him continue until you got close to the venue, pushing his hand away to slip your breasts back into your shirt.
“Liebling,” Köing sounds so pathetic as if you took a toy away from a whining dog.
“Stop, act normal.”
“Act normal? I always act normal.” He mumbles under his breath as he pulls into the parking lot and searches for a spot.
Once the car is parked, he unbuckles his seat belt and turns his head to you. He watches your breasts move as you take off your own seat belt. Your eyes meet his and you can see that he is just paying attention to them.
“König, my door?”
“Oh!” He gets out of the car quickly and rushes over to the other side to open the door for you. He playfully bows, “My lady…”
You laugh and step out of the car. He holds his hand out for you to grab. You both walk forward to the wedding venue. The whole wedding was hell. König was not only forced to meet new people, but he was also expected to keep his hands to himself. As the couple exchanged their first kiss as husband and wife, everyone around began to cheer.
He watches you stand, and takes the lead. You all cheer as the couple leaves the room. König leans over and whispers in your ear, “Maybe we can have a quicky before they start the reception?”
“No.” You whisper back quickly.
König rolls his eyes and just keeps clapping. Once the bride and groom leave, slowly the rows of people begin to file out of the door. With everyone clearly not minding the both of you, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back to him. Slowly his hand crept up to grasp your breasts. His fingers pinching your nipple before you swat his hand away.
He looks down at you before inching back up towards your breast, squeezing hard so you can’t move him so easily. You try to suppress your laugh by nudging him with your elbow.
“Stop!” You hiss playfully.
“Liebling, I can’t stop.” He chuckles under his breath, squeezing once more before letting go so you can exit the venue.
Walking outside, on your way to the reception König keeps his arm over your shoulder. His eyes watching your breasts bounce out the corner of his eye.
“You know, weddings are a celebration of love. I don’t see why I can’t just carry you into the bathroom and show you how much I love you.” His fingers dance in small circles just above your cleavage.
“Their love, not ours.”
“I still don’t see the issue.” His voice laced with desire as he looks around to make sure no one was looking. He slowly slips his hand into your dress and cups your breast in his hand again.
“König!”
He quickly withdraws his hand due to your tone. “Sorry…” a small smirk forms on his lips, he loves it when you get like this.
“You really can’t keep your hands to yourself for one second?” You stop talking and look up at him.
“Wha-…” König tries to hide his smirk. “I can.”
“You’re so annoying.” You huff as you turn to continue walking.
“And you’re so sexy.” He pulls you back to him. “Stop being grumpy. You never have an issue.”
“We are never at a formal occasion, König.”
He lets out a deep sigh before leaning down to kiss your lips. “Fine, I’m sorry for not listening. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“Thank you…” You smile up at him, tapping your lips for another kiss.
Happily, he brings his lips back to meet yours. His muscular arms wrap around your body and grip you against his body. Feeling your breasts press against him.
“When we get home, I want you to suffocate me with your breasts.” He whispers in your ear.
“How about, I let you fuck them. Only if you’re a good boy.” You match his energy.
König’s eyes light up as they open wide, a goofy look of excitement crosses his face. “I’ll be the best boy for you.”
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hhughes · 2 days
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♯ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐊 ◞ 𝑸𝑯⁴³
✰ pairing ⤫ fem!reader x quinn hughes
✰ synopsis ⤫ in which you and quinn are fighting but he can’t leave without letting you know he loves you
✰ content ⤫ a little angst I guess, the angst isn’t really present in the fic, it’s more about the resolving of the angst. cuteness. quinn putting up with his girl’s stubborn ass. overuse of baby, I’m sorry 😭
✰ 💭 ⤫ I love writing for quinn so much. . . as always I’d love to hear what you think! <3
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you make a pointed effort not to look in quinn's direction as he enters the kitchen, keeping your glare firmly planted on your cup that coffee was slowly pouring into.
quinn knew you had seen him enter the kitchen, your shoulders had tensed the moment he walked into the room, but your eyes didn't flicker to his like they normally would, and he was fine with that. he was sure that if you did direct you attention towards him it would only be to start yelling at him. again.
he follows his normal morning routine, taking out the toaster and the bagels but hesitates after putting one in. he's unsure if he should be toasting yours, not because he's being petty over the fact that you weren't making him coffee like you normally would, simply because he's never met a more stubborn person in his life, and he wasn't sure if you'd eat it if he did toast it for you.
quinn allows the silence to drag on for a few minutes before breaking it. "you're coming to the game tonight right?” he asks
“probably,” you answer softly and quinn sighs, dropping another bagel in the toaster
quinn moves to the spot next to you, making his breakfast bagel on the counter and you resist the urge to kiss his cheek and cuddle into him like you normally would. he was even wearing his blue hoodie today, the one he knew was your favourite.
you make your way to the living room table, taking a seat on a chair and pretending to read the paper that was laying on the table. your mind was way too busy to actually focus on the words on the page but it was better than looking like you were contemplating what happened earlier that morning.
it was a stupid fight really, stemming from the fact that quinn left his dishes in the sink when you’ve repeatedly told him to just put it in the dishwasher, like how hard can it be? from there on some petty insults were exchanged as a result of exhaustion and frustration building up from the long week.
there’s a few minutes of silence again, the only sounds coming from the kitchen where Quinn was making your bagel. it’s not unusual for there to be silence in the morning, neither you or quinn were morning people. but that’s usually peaceful silence, this was tension-filled silence.
you see quinn approaching in your peripheral and a few seconds later he placed your bagel in front of you. “eat that,” he says, more like orders. and hesitates for a few seconds. he wasn’t sure if you wanted him to sit with you, or if you’d rather just be left alone.
your heart clenches a little when after a few seconds of hovering he decides to move towards the living room and plops down on the couch, eating his breakfast alone.
you were so in your head you didn’t realize the time had passed so quickly and before you knew it, quinn was getting ready to leave, putting on his shoes and grabbing his keys.
letting out a heavy sigh he makes his way towards you, gently cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss to your head and your cheek.
“Have a good day baby, I’ll see you tonight. I love you,” he says before turning to leave but you grab his hand before he gets the chance to
“I’m sorry-“ you start to apologize but he cuts you off
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, you’re right you’re not my mother and I’m a grown man, I can clean up after myself,” he says a little teasingly, recalling your words from earlier.
“Well yes, but you also apologized for it and I blew it way out of proportion. I’ve had a horrible week and I took my frustrations out on you and I’m sorry,” you say and his gaze softens, pulling your hand to tug you out of the chair and into his chest
“It’s okay baby. I know you’ve had a stressful week, we all have those. God knows I have them and I take it out on you way more than you do to me. I’ll argue with you about dishes in the sink if that’s what you need to let off some steam, as long as we can make up again before one of us has to leave. I don’t like being away from you knowing you’re pissed at me. At least when I’m home I get to see how sexy you look when you glare at me from across the room,” Quinn says, placing a kiss just below your ear and you shiver a little when his beard scratches the skin there.
“Well there’s other ways we can blow off steam rather than arguing,” you suggest and Quinn lets out a soft laugh against your neck
“You wanna show me?” he mumbles, hands falling to your ass and you laugh pushing him away
“Maybe tonight, you’re gonna be late,” you say, walking to the kitchen and grabbing the lunch you packed for Quinn before he even came downstairs
“You sure it’s safe to eat?” Quinn teases, knowing you made it when you were still mad
“Your sandwich may be a little spicier than usual, but you’ll live,” you say, patting his chest and he laughs, giving you a quick peck before he’s out the door.
not even his plate and coffee mug from breakfast sitting in the sink was enough to remove the smile on your face after that.
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princekeerys · 2 days
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omg i saw your requests are open and could you do something fluffy with lucifer? maybe like you see something and want to buy it, but can’t and so he surprises you.
i genuinely think i suck at writing for lucifer but will that stop me? nope!
☾. °.   ࿐  ` , •
lucifer was the sweetest boyfriend ever. always asking to hold your hand (though, you tell him he never has to ask), always making sure he’s walking on the outside of the sidewalk and you on the inside, always making pinkie promises with you. he was so unbelievably… perfect.
you were the first person he opened up to about lilith and the ideas he had had for heaven that made him fall into hell; and you listened with an open mind and a heart that you decided would beat solely for him.
it was now your fifth date, walking the streets of pentagram city. the day had gone beautifully with your arm linked around lucifer’s, the sky painted different shades of red. you followed in each other’s steps as fellow sinners were beginning to close up shop for the day.
there was one place in particular that caught your eye — ellie’s pride boutique. so good, you’ll double die! with the white lettering on a red sign, lights flashing all around it. it surely caught your attention. and lucifer noticed as he watched you with so much adoration in eyes as you went up to the big glass window, putting your hands beside your face to get a better look inside.
it was a beautiful dress, one that looked like it came out of the many fairytales you’d seen when you were still alive, a kid.
“see something you like, lovey?” lucifer’s beside you now, also taking a turn in looking through the shop’s window. “wow! that dress is amazing! i-i think it’d look really good on you… erm… know it would” he nervously laughs. “don’t you think?” you laugh at his awkwardness. it’s cute.
“i think it’s a very pretty dress, luci”
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you’re putting your hand out to lay on lucifer’s chest, only to feel the soft material of his duck-patterned sheets. blinking your eyes open, rather confused, you sit up in your shared bed wondering where your doting boyfriend was.
and then you hear commotion coming from the living room.
was he creating more rubber duckies?
slipping out of bed to where the noise was coming from and just peaking your head around the corner, you see lucifer rushing around like a mad man.
and then you also see a mannequin… and that dress you saw yesterday in the window.
oh, you felt really bad.
“this has to be perfect! oh gosh, i hope she hasn’t woken up yet, i haven’t even made the tea ye- oh hi, dear!” his blonde locks are a mess and his coat is off, leaving you to see that striped shirt that you think he looks oh-so handsome in; your heart does flips on the spot. “hi, luci. what’s all this?” you point to the elephant in the room — or more-so, behind lucifer.
“oh! r-right!” he clears his throat, making sure his hair is back in order. “my dear, i saw the way your eyes lit up when you saw this dress in the window, and i couldn’t help myself. so… i woke up early this morning to go and make quick purchase of it”
you step closer, completely in awe over the fact that lucifer would do something like this for you… and the dress, of course.
“lucifer, it’s gorgeous… but you didn’t have to do this for me. i-i could’ve saved up money”
“and have you wait a year or a few months? honey, we both know you suck at saving… and spending”
“you have a point”
he takes the dress off the mannequin — with shaky hands and a bunch of nerves as to not ruin the dress. he puts the beautiful piece in your hands.
“here! go try this on! i’ll make us some morning tea!”
you make your way to the washroom and you have to admit, the dress suits you so well — you feel like a princess. your eyes keep focused on the mirror, not truly believing that such a beautiful piece of clothing was adorning your body and made you look like what fairytales were written about. you feel slightly nervous walking out to show lucifer.
he’s sat on the couch, a cup of tea in his hand as he sips from it and one resting on the coffee table in front of him.
“your highness”
lucifer looks over the rim of his cup and as soon as his eyes meet yours, he spats out his drink and becomes a coughing mess.
“oh my golly! darling! you look…” you giggle at his blushing face, curtseying as both hands hold the bottom fluff of your dress. you can’t deny, you’re a flustered mess yourself, wearing something so elegant in front of the king of hell. sure, you’re together, but his title still had that effect on you.
“yeah? how do i look?” you ask shyly. lucifer gets up from his spot, setting his tea cup gently beside yours. he now stands in front of you, his hand coming up underneath your chin, his palm soft against your skin.
“you look as beautiful as the day we met”
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please reblog/comment, it’s greatly appreciated ♡
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Stuff of Fairytales - Floyd
Author Notes: Happy MerMay Twisted Wonderland! I won't lie, this fic kind of flew together while I was just sitting and chatting with my mom and sister. It doesn't have any specific music that it was written to or anything like that and my only real idea that went into this was MerMay. Nonetheless, I had fun writing this fic. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!
Type: Gender-neutral reader/ MerMay/ fluff/ romance implied/ sfw
Word Count: 1264
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Ignoring Floyd was always something that one did at one’s own risk. Especially when he was staring quite as pointedly as he was staring at me right now. And even more especially so considering that I was sitting on the edge of the pool while Floyd was in his merform.
He drifted over, and I cautiously met his stare, not entirely sure as to what I should expect from him.
For one thing, he’d been oddly peaceful this entire time. And while that didn’t necessarily mean anything, it still felt suspiciously like the calm before a storm.
He tilted his head, slowly coming to a steady stop right in front of me before crossing his arms and resting them on my knees, where I had my legs hanging over the edge of the pool and in the cool water, “Hey Shrimpy, did your world have any merpeople?” 
His tone was relatively innocent, but I still felt my eyebrows lift warily before I shook my head. Half-surprised by his question even as I answered him, “No… They’re the stuff of fairytales in my world…. Kind of like magic is.”
He hummed, rolling his mismatched eyes up to meet mine as he rested his chin on his arms. Almost as if he were, suspiciously enough, trying to look innocent.
I watched him silently for a moment before finally biting the bullet and questioning him as he continued to stare up at me, “Why?”
That singular word had a grin splitting its way across his face, perfectly displaying his too-sharp teeth that made so many others uncomfortable.
But just like how I’d somehow gotten used to his merform’s slimy texture, I was perfectly used to his sharp-toothed grins by now.
“Nothing~ It just explains why you had such a cute, surprised reaction when you first saw mine and Jade’s merforms.”
I rolled my eyes slightly at his teasing tone, even as I smiled despite myself at his words, “You say that like I was the only one who was surprised. I seem to recall Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Grim all being pretty shocked too.”
Despite my words, I couldn’t deny that I had been genuinely startled. Floyd and Jade were nothing like the fluttery, magical creatures I’d imagined as a child. Instead, they were far more dangerous-looking. Something that was fitting, considering their personalities.
But even then, there had still been something enchanting about seeing a merperson for the first time. Much less two of them.
Not that I was ever going to tell Floyd that. He was already amused enough as it was.
Floyd faux-pouted up at me in an almost playful manner, “But none of them were cute. They just looked like a bunch of guppies silently opening and closing their mouths.”
He paused as I fought the urge to snort at his analogy, and, as if somehow he could sense my amusement, he grinned again. His tail slashing through the water as his eyes all but sparkled at me, “You weren’t like that though, Shrimpy. Your eyes were all bright. Like you were excited.”
I almost sighed at his pointed, pleased-sounding words. Because while I couldn’t say that they were wholly accurate, they were a little too perceptive in a way that I could only describe as very Octavinelle.
Floyd, Jade, and Azul were all practically uncanny when it came to their ability to hit upon something people didn’t want them to know.
“I wasn’t excited….” I trailed off unconvincingly, not entirely sure how to defend myself in this situation since he wasn’t entirely wrong.
Lying would be useless. Floyd was so used to his brother’s slippery nature that he would be able to see through any fib I came up with in a nanosecond.
I didn’t have to rush, though. Floyd was waiting. An amused smile on his face as he waited for me to give up in a rare display of patience from the usually restless young man.
But then, I supposed being patient might be easier when victory was assured. His grin wasn’t making it any easier for me to come up with an excuse, though.
“Well, how would you react if you suddenly saw something out of a fairytale?!” I gave up in an exasperated half-surrender.
I refused to tell Floyd that a slight bit of childish enchantment and awe had shot through me when I’d first seen him and his brother’s merforms.
Doing that would just result in him telling his brother, and then there really would be no escaping the teasing and harassment.
As it was, I would just have to put up with Floyd’s teasing and amusement until he drifted onto another topic. He might bring back up my initial reaction to his merform every so often, but I could deal with that. 
After all, it was only fair with how often I got to pick him on numerous things as well.
At odds with my expectations of his laughter, Floyd straightened from where he’d been resting his chin on his arms this entire time and tilted his head in a thoughtful fashion.
After a brief moment, he grinned, and something ever-so-slightly worrying flickered through his mismatched eyes as he met my gaze once more, “I guess I’d squeeze ‘em.”
Before I could even think about reacting, his arms were wrapping themselves around my waist. Pulling me closer and squeezing me with a surprising degree of care considering who it was that I was dealing with.
I gasped slightly in surprise at both his actions and the cold from his wet arms, my hands flying up and grabbing hold of his shoulders in a slight panic. Not entirely trusting him to not pull me into the pool with him.
I didn’t go splashing down into the water though, and my reaction only caused Floyd to grin even more at me, “Your reactions are too much fun, Shrimpy~”
His words were all but cooed, and I frowned slightly, “Floyd, you know your slime is hard to get out of clothes.”
I scolded him in retaliation, continuing to frown down at him, but my words were met with little more than a nonchalant shrug from the merman, who certainly didn't seem like he was going to be letting go of me anytime soon.
In fact, he seemed perfectly content, smiling up at me from the pool that I was now perched precariously on the edge of. Fully relying on Floyd to keep me balanced as he held onto me.
He smiled, tilting his head slightly, perfectly unbothered as he grinned up at me, “Just use the washer at Octavinelle and tell Azul it’s my fault.”
I sighed at his words, feeling myself surrender ever-so-slightly as I let a smile slip onto my face. Sometimes it really did feel like there was no winning against Floyd, and, to be fair, his plan probably would work.
Azul was nothing if not used to Floyd’s mercurial ways that often caused him troubles. 
I relaxed, letting my hands continue to rest easily on Floyd’s shoulders as I smiled down at him, “Just don’t come whining to me later.”
 He outright grinned at my words, his eyes sparkling in an almost challenging way, “No promises~”
I shook my head fondly at both him and his words as I continued to smile down at the man who hugged me close to him.
Floyd himself might not exactly be the stuff of fairytales, but he was definitely  unforgettable, and there wasn’t a thing I would change about him. 
Even if he could be a pest sometimes.
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sir-adamus · 1 day
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i've got the blu ray for volume 1 playing and i'm watching the behind the scenes video and Monty explicitly spells out how important collaboration with other creatives was in building RWBY, saying how he wanted to work with Kerry and Miles on it in creating the world and how he mostly gave them broad strokes. and it's mentioned how they all put the show bible together - i'm gonna put the whole transcript for the video under the cut (which i'm having to do myself because no one has uploaded this video anywhere as far as i can tell and there's no fucking subtitles)
Monty Oum [Creator and Director]: It’s the stories I’ve always wanted to tell versus the idea I came up with about, a little over a year ago. And we were talking about doing another show, and I just kind of half-asleep came up with the idea of a color rule for a bunch of characters. The red, white, black and yellow color scheme was something that was very prominent even in my previous work, so I started matching names up, matching ideas up. Also thinking about like, some of the ideas I’d stored up over the years. At some point or another the word ‘RWBY’ came to me.
Monty: Starting the show out originally, I designed the original character, Ruby, as well as going into the other characters. So once I had the first trailer done, and thinking about the rest of the characters for the show, I started bringing in other artists who I had watched for years. People I’d always said “someday I’ll work with them, someday I’ll have them design for me.” And when I was certain about having certain characters, I first contacted an artist I admired and found over DeviantArt. Her name was Ein Lee, she’s actually from Taiwan, and I found her art probably well over five years ago, and just loved her art style, and therefore wanted to incorporate it into my characters. So, I would do rough designs for team RWBY as well as designs for team JNPR, and she would flesh that out to be even further. To the point where eventually I didn’t need to design characters anymore, she started designing a bunch of the rest of the characters down the line.
Monty: The second person I brought on to RWBY was Kerry, because we had just been having conversations about the kind of show we could make. I’d been working with Miles on Season 10. He was writing scenes while I was making scenes, and so the three of us would have a lot of meetings and collaborate on the show to the point where I just started coming up with the broad strokes eventually and they had pretty much written the bulk of the show. Collaboration’s a big deal here, and I tried to include as many people as I can.
Kerry Shawcross [Co-writer]: Right after RvB ended, we wanted to just go straight into RWBY, but that was like right when we were going into commercial season. So we would work our normal hours here. Like 10 to 7-ish, then we would go back to one of our apartments and just start writing.
Miles Luna [Co-writer]: Monty really was enthusiastic about having these characters that may appear really one-dimensional for like the first few scenes that you see them, but the longer you get to know them, you realise “Oh, Yang isn’t just a dumb blonde party girl. She’s a very caring and nurturing girl, that has had to essentially be there for Ruby when she was young.”
Kathleen Zuelch [Producer]: When Monty and Miles and Kerry came to me, and really took me through the story. I started becoming a huge believer, because I’m a big fan of old school, traditional fairy tales, I love the Brothers Grimm, I love all the Snow White, and I love Little Red Riding Hood. I grew up with all of those stories, and the way that they were very clever in creating this whole world that’s kind of making homage to all of these amazing stories really inspired me to get more on board with what they wanted to do with this whole anime show.
Taylor McNee (née Pelto) [Art Director]: The world of RWBY, it looks very familiar. We wanted a blend of very classic looking architecture and clothing and cars, but we’re also mixing in this really kind of futuristic feel, like these little touches of some really futuristic stuff like holograms and things that you wouldn’t find in a classic [inaudible]. And that’s how we’re making this world unique. Our assets have to go through this pipeline of concept, modelling, texturing, and then finally being able to be put into the 3D program. So we start out with the concept and we usually bring that image into Maya, which is the main 3D software that we use. We have to make a 3D model that looks exactly like the concept that we were given, and it’s quite a process. Basically, we’re pushing polys and extruding stuff until we make the perfect shape, then afterwards we have to UV unwrap it, and then lay everything out on a texture sheet and then paint it, and that will put the image on the model. After that we’re basically done with the model and texture, and then we have to give it to the animators. So then we will set it up in Poser so the animators can grab it and use it for their characters.
Gray Haddock [Lead Editor]: There’s a lot of people working on this show, and there’s a lot of different elements in the pipeline. Editorial kinda serves as a hub between all the different departments, so we help all the communication and coordination between all the different pieces of the show, depending on what part of development that they’re in. Editorial’s getting involved way early in the process, we work alongside the director and the writers and the storyboard artists, and we use the scripts to help develop the storyboards and the camera angles for all those boards. So editorial is responsible for building up the moments of any given scene in terms of the timing and what you wanna look at, at any given moment. So we take the script and we help develop the camera angles and how long you wanna linger in a particular camera angle, look at one character or another or the scene as a whole, and the rhythm of the scene in terms of how long is it gonna take to spend on a particular line or when you want the music to come in, things like that. So we build up a set of animatics with the storyboards, and the first pass of all the audio. This is what then is handed off to the animators, so they can know exactly what is in what shot and how long do they have to animate it in a given shot. And once they’re done animating and their shot’s been approved, then their shot goes to the render farm, we get the rendered shot back and we drop it into the timeline for our episode and finesse the cut a little bit if we have to. But for the most part, we’ve done our job right and everything should pretty much be locked in for the most part by the time we’re getting animation.
Kerry: What’s kinda interesting as we’re creating the characters is, we kinda knew what kind of character they’d be. We knew Ruby would act a certain way, we knew Weiss would act a certain way, but we didn’t really know much about them. So we would get to the point where we’d be figuring out plotlines or figuring out dialogue and we’d be like “What would Weiss say here? What would Nora say here?” And then it turned into “Oh well now we know.”
Miles: Obviously we put a lot of thought into Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang before we started writing the dialogue. I remember sitting upstairs and we made a show bible, and we’re starting- we talked about likes, dislikes, personality traits. One of the first things I remember making was “Weiss drinks coffee. Blake drinks tea.”
Kerry: It’s important. It sounds not important at all, but it’s very important. It says so much about them
Miles: But it’s so important. So much about them, also it says nothing about them. It was just like- that’s just what it is.
Monty: I want the show to have resonance with people who are growing up. Cos everyone’s story is the story of kind of becoming who they are. Especially these days when the path of becoming who you are tends to be marginalised with reality. Having done what I’ve done, where I’ve essentially dropped out of high school, started learning this stuff on my own, and therefore land in a position where I get to take the things I was dreaming about when I was growing up and make it real. I tend to get a lot of response from people who are also not sure what they’re meant to become, a lot of them also have the same bright imaginations and with the way the world is, the hardships of what it means to grow up tends to marginalise who you are, and I would hate that to happen to anyone because the future is in creativity and that’s not something you can just manufacture. I actually would like this show to grow up with the people, so unlike most shows where they tend to be ageless or age very slowly, I’d like our fifteen-year-old fans watching fifteen-year-old Ruby, when they’re twenty-five, to be watching twenty-five-year-old Ruby, and to actually have some resonance with the character. Probably one of my favourite types of feedback is to say “I know this person” or “this person is just like me,” and that’s probably one of the best things about coming up with these characters.
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caramelberzatto · 2 days
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and there was somethin' bout you // c. berzatto
good evening, my fellow tumblr users. it's been forever. since i've last been active, my whole life has shifted. drastically. the cafe i worked at for the past two years, where i met my two best friends, and where i felt most at home, closed down permanently. i booked a trip halfway across the world, that's coming up in september. i worked on healing myself after a heartbreak that left me untethered and scared and lonely. but it's been a while, and i've found my way back to light and warmth and appreciation of the person that i am. and the urge to write, to create, has sparked within me again. i hope you're still with me. i've missed you all. - clarke xx
a soft carmy ramble below the cut <3
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Carmen Berzatto had never been able to forget you, despite the many years it had been since he’d last seen you, heard your voice, felt the warmth of your hand in his. And he’d cursed himself for it sometimes, for living would’ve been so much easier if he didn’t feel so lost, always reaching for someone he knew wasn’t there. But at the same time, there was a certain torturous comfort in falling back on the traces of you when he was spiralling. 
You were just kids; stupid teenagers with big feelings that you felt too young to carry for each other. And the stumble and stutter of words meant everything got lost in translation anyway. It was growing into your bodies and leaning into one another, without ever admitting to the closeness. 
You’d never really had friends, too exhausted by the thought of interacting with others, of putting on a face and playing pretend for the sake of being a part of a crowd. And Carmen’s friends were just extensions of his brother, Michael; the high-and-mighty, infectiously exuberant Michael. But you… you were something new; something he held close to his heart. For him, you’d propped open a door. You’d let him in without really meaning to. But when being in his company felt like floating, what else were you supposed to do? When someone came along and showed you what it was like to breathe without fearing everyone else would notice the rise and fall of your chest, it’s not like you were going to let that go. 
And so began the most meaningful connection you’d ever had. When you spent a summer at camp, he was the one you sent the most letters home to. When he got stuck on an assignment, he’d call you up, and you’d be halfway to the local library with cookies before he could finish what he was saying. And when you’d been each other's firsts, nervous hands fumbling for each other on a cold, autumn afternoon in senior year… Neither of you had spoken of it again, but it had meant everything. To the both of you. But things went on, and that spark, that flare, was never explored; the curse of being a teenager, awkward and not-quite you yet, and unsure of how to communicate.
And, as most things do, high school came to an end. Chances were missed. Threads of connection slipped through fumbling fingers. Carmy landed himself in New York, and you landed yourself in a shitty apartment four blocks from your childhood home. 
Though the memories of the two of you lingered all around. They must’ve lingered because the world knew you’d find your way back to each other.
And you had. Two years ago, at a market by the water. You’d been on the phone to your sister at the time, tugged along by your rambunctious niece while you were trying to pick a good watermelon, and he’d just… been there. Over by a stand selling fresh berries and mangoes, the same stall your niece was headed for.
Wearing a faded navy shirt, the logo for his brother’s sandwich joint on the front, his hair unruly and soft, he’d looked exactly as you’d remembered. But a little older now, grown. Every memory had come rushing back, glueing you to the spot, and you’d muttered an apology as you hung up on your sister, promising to have her daughter home in time for her afternoon nap. 
He turned, then, spotting you, and it was a bit like the movies you’d roped him into watching with you in high school, late at night, after you’d been studying all afternoon. It felt like everything stopped, his breath caught in his throat, and nothing could’ve stopped the smile that bloomed on your face.
And now, two years later, perched on the kitchen counter in your shared apartment, your hands tangled in his hair, he was smiling at you in a very similar way. 
“Okay, okay,” you murmured between gentle kisses that tasted of coffee and maple syrup and love. “Carm, we’ve gotta go or we’ll be late.”
“Don’t want to,” he grumbled, kissing you again, his hand cradling the back of your head. The warmth of him as he stood between your knees radiated through you, and you wanted to curl up in bed with him and never leave. But there was a very excitable eight year-old waiting on you.
“If I’m late to my niece’s birthday, you know my sister will probably murder me, right?”
Carmen huffed out a laugh, finally pulling away, and despite every instinct in your body screaming at you to hold onto him, to keep kissing him, you let him go. He held up his hands in mock retreat, turning away to grab his jacket off the back of one of the dining chairs. “Come on, then.”
He patted your ass as you passed him, grabbing the keys from the dish on the counter. Then his hand was on your wrist, tugging you close, and his lips found yours again. And you were instantly drunk on the sweet, honeyed words of ‘I love you’ that drifted from his mouth. 
Such an easy thing for him to say now, even if only to you, for it had taken almost a decade of wanting to confess it.
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Haunted Pt 2
Hi everyone! Thanks so much for the fantastic reception on Part 1, it really made me want to write some more to this little story! Here's Part 2, I hope you enjoy it as much as the last one.
Summary: Reader remembers a party she was at, and the Ghoul causes trouble in a saloon.
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“Are you enjoying the party?”   
I looked over to my left to see Barb Howard approaching me. She was completely impeccable – her dark skin was glowing, and she had the best-looking hair in the room. Her dress was a beautiful peach colour, and she had a string of pearls around her neck that were probably worth more than all the alcohol spilling at the party. Beside her, I felt ever so slightly dull.   
“Oh, me and Jackie are having such a good time,” I nodded towards the toilets, “he’s currently taking a bathroom break.”   
I felt the need to accentuate my husband’s appearance next to Barb, and I breathed a sigh of relief when Jackie appeared from the toilet and smiled widely at us.   
“Barb, this is a spectacular event. You lot at Vault-Tec certainly know how to throw a party!” he laughed, and I felt a wave of jealousy come over me as she laughed alongside him. Jackie was so good at this – talking to people he barely knew, making them feel like he really cared about them even if he didn’t give a whatsits. “Me and my wife here barely get a chance to go out together at the minute, this filming is taking awfully long.”   
I noticed he winced as he said this, and Barb’s face fell ever so slightly. The one thing we’d both agreed not to mention tonight was the film because we knew I was already on Barb’s bad side after she’d seen The Man from Calabasas. I’d never taken her as a jealous type, but after the premier had finished, Barb had become immediately cold towards me. Her irritation at my presence got worse with Under the Covers, and this one we were currently shooting often had visits to set from Cooper’s wife, who apparently was under the impression I was screwing her husband.   
Not even my marriage had convinced her otherwise and she’d been invited to the wedding.  
“Well, you and I are both feeling the loneliness from our spouses’ schedules, although Cooper’s is most definitely busier.”   
I sucked in a deep breath at her veiled insult, but Jackie just put his hand on the small of my back and pointed to the corner.   
“Look, darling, there’s Charlie,” he smiled politely at Barb, and she forced one back at us. “my apologies, Mrs Howard, but I think we’re being waved over.”   
We walked away from her, and Jackie let out an unhappy sigh.   
“God, you’d think that you’d be flirting with that woman’s husband off-camera with the way she acts towards you.”   
“I barely flirt with him on camera, darling.” I chuckled, and he took me in his arms, placed his hands on my waist and kissed me deeply.  
“I love you, darling.” He said softly, and I smiled back, feeling myself getting lost in his gaze.  
“I love you too, Jackie,” I replied, “I love you very much.”   
***  
“Earth to Little Miss Ryder, are you even fuckin’ listening to me?”   
I turned to the Ghoul, who was waving a gloved hand in my face. I jumped slightly and sent him an uneasy nod. We were walking past the remains of what seemed to be a forest, with trees that were coming back stronger than they’d grown before. Walking along the treeline gave us a bit of shade from the burning sun, but the Ghoul had been shifty since we’d left the hut that morning, looking in every direction at once as if something was going to appear all at once out of nowhere.  
“Yeah, sorry. Just got distracted thinking about someone. I mean, something.”   
“Well, you better keep fuckin’ focused 'cause I think I can see what passed that hut last night.” He gestured in front of me, and I gasped as I saw what he meant.   
Up in the distance, shuffling around aimlessly, was another ghoul.   
“Has it seen us?” I whispered, but he shook his head.   
“Nah, I don’t think so,” he hissed back, “but we’re gonna have to pass it at some point, and it’s definitely feral.”   
In front of us, the feral ghoul began to turn towards us and suddenly I was being pulled behind a tree. He pulled out his gun and gestured for me to do the same.   
“Hey, uh, I should probably have asked you this before, but what’s your name? I don’t want to go ‘hey ghoulie’ and have you both turn to look at me.”   
“I don’t have one.”   
“What do you mean you don’t have one?”   
“I. Don’t. Have. One. Okay?”   
“Everyone has a name!”   
“Oh for fuck’s sake, just call me Sherrif!” he spat out, before leaping out behind the tree and shooting the feral in the head.   
“What kind of a fuckin’ name is Sherrif?” I almost laugh at the implications – this fucking Ghoul, who dressed like a cowboy with a secret love of Westerns wanted to be called Sherrif?   
“It’s my fuckin’ name, Missy.”   
“No, it ain’t.”   
“Yes, it is.”   
The feral currently on the floor began to move again, but Sherrif shot it again, still glaring at me.   
“It’s a fucking stupid name – makes you sound like a dog.”   
He lunged at me – grabbed onto my neck and shoved me against the tree we’d just been hiding behind.   
“Maybe I just am a dog, Missy. I certainly seem to be followin’ you around like one.”  
“Yeah, that’s what I’m fuckin’ paying you for, Sherrif,” He let out an irritated huff, and let me go, adjusting his belt.   
“Never meet your fuckin’ heroes,” he sighed and shook his head. I only let out another laugh and shrugged.   
“I was never the hero, Sherrif. I was the always the damsel in distress, gettin’ tied up by some evildoer and Coop’s character would have to rescue me.”   
“You were pretty fuckin’ fiesty for a damsel in distress.”   
“Only ‘cause the old perverts that liked watching Coop’s pictures liked to see a woman’s titties jiggle as she fought off the evil outlaw.”  
Walking away from the scene, the bounty hunter Ghoul became talkative in a way he hadn’t been before last night.   
“What was it like actin’ alongside the infamous Cooper Howard?” I raised my eyebrows at him, but he only shrugged. “I’m just interested to know if he was a fuckin’ arsehole like actors usually are.”   
“What do you know about actors, Sherrif?”   
“Been around a long time, I suppose.”   
“I can fuckin’ believe that one,” he shot me a dirty look, but I only grinned, “anyway, Coop was actually a pretty nice guy, for the most part. Though it is his fuckin’ fault I’m out here and not sittin’ pretty in a vault with my husband.”   
“The vaults aren’t all they were cracked up to be,” the Sherrif grimaced, and adjusted his hat, “you’re probably better off out here.”   
“You might be right, to be fair. But if I saw him walkin’ ‘round today, I’d sock him right on the mouth.”   
“Haven’t you done that before anyway?” I roll my eyes at his attempt at a joke, but I can’t help but smile.   
“We were acting.”   
“Were you?”   
“Of course I was!” I slap him on the arm, and he grins down at me. For a second, I’m not in the wasteland – I’m back on set with Cooper and Jackie or Greg and we’re just laughing about some dumb shit on the script. Then the wasteland appears before us again and I’m no longer home.   
***  
The next settlement we arrived at was substantial but quiet. The people there didn’t seem scared of us as we dragged ourselves to the watering hole, but there was a look in their eyes like you’d see in a prey animal. We handed over a few caps to the bartender in exchange for a drink and some directions to somewhere to kip for the night.   
“Jus’ head over to Mister J’s place. It’s on the high street, opposite the junk shop. Can’t miss it.”   
“Thank you kindly, sir,” I said, turning back to face the Sherrif. He was looking around us with a hint of suspicion on his face, and I handed him his drink. “what’s up, Sherrif? Does this saloon reek of outlaw or somethin’?”   
The Sherrif grunted but nodded all the same.   
“Somethin’ like that, little Missy. Somethin’ ain’t right here.”   
We hadn’t been sitting in the bar long before that something walked right in, a rather substantial gun in his hand and a crazed look in his red-rimmed eyes. The bar went completely silent, and the ghoul next to me immediately put a hand on his own gun.  
So far, apart from the trouble with raiders and fiends and all that shit, we hadn’t faced a huge threat. But between the haunted looks of the settlement inhabitants, and the coked-up-looking man standing next to the bar, I was sure this was going to be trouble. It reminded me of a scene from Under the Covers, where I’d played a sultry young woman hiding a dark secret opposite Cooper’s detective and he’d got into a bar fight over a mafiosa’s wandering hands.   
I shook my head at the Sherrif, who seemed to be moments away from pulling out his gun and firing it at the coked-up crazy man before he decided to fire at anyone else. He frowned but shifted anyway and pulled his hat further over his face. The sudden intruder whispered something in the ear of the bartender, who had become very interested in the glass he’d been polishing. He put the glass down and poured the man a beer, before quickly going back to polishing his glasses.   
From where we were sat, I had a pretty good view of the dude – his red eyes, thick beard, the bloodied fist clenched around his beer glass. I looked back over at the Sherrif, whose eyes were trained on the gun in the man’s other bloodied hand.   
I made eye contact with the Sherrif and then looked over to the door. He seemed to get my meaning, and we were about to get up when the crazed man began to talk.   
“You got the caps for this month, Jim?” he asked, and the barman cowered, before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Sir, I haven’t been able to make the full amount since that shootout last month, I just need-”   
“So you don’t have my fucking caps, is that what you’re saying?”  
“No, Sir.”   
At this point, I could see that the barman was shaking, and the other man was holding up his gun, not quite pointing it, but holding it up as if he were inspecting it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Sherrif shift in his seat, and his hand returned to the pistol.   
“Well then, I guess I gotta give you a little more time then, eh? A little bit more time to make a few more caps, yeah?”   
“Yes Sir, please. I only need a couple more days.” I was almost certain that the barman was close to shitting himself, and I was beginning to panic that we would be next.  
I remembered men like these – men who would come into the brothel with their guns, pointing them at any whore who dared disobey.  
I remembered shooting a few of them.  
I watched, half in horror and half in dull apathy as the coked-up man raised his gun to the head of the barman, who had resorted to whimpering in fear. There was a click, as he pulled the trigger, but no gunshot ran out.   
The barman let out a cry, but the other man just began to laugh.   
“You got til’ tomorrow. If I don’t get my caps, I’ll shoot you in the fucking head for real.”   
The barman whimpered a thank you and then seemed to crumple to his knees in relief, disappearing from view.   
I let out a sigh of relief of my own, and I saw the Sherrif remove his hand from his holster. I relaxed my shoulders and leaned back into my chair and I saw my companion relax a little himself.   
“Now, what have we got here?”   
Shit. I took a quick look over to the Sherrif, who was currently in a staring contest with the apparent landlord of the saloon.   
“Me and my companion here are just a couple wanderers, enjoying a quick drink,” I hastily begin, “We won’t be sticking around long.”  
“You know, you don’t see many ghouls around these parts.” The Sherrif remained silent, so I attempted to step in again.   
“We’ll be on our way very soon,” I said, “We’re not sticking around, like I said.” I looked over to the Sherrif as I did so, who raised his glass to the Landlord and downed the rest of his drink.   
“You look very familiar, young lady,” the Landlord began, “Have we met before?”  
I shook my head and forced out a smile.   
“We’re nobodies, Sir. Just your average wastelanders.”   
He looked us over, for a moment, before standing aside.   
“Off you go then, average wastelanders.” He had a sneer painted across his scarred, hairy face that I didn’t like but at least he was letting us go.   
We got to the door of the saloon and were about to walk out and find wherever Mr J’s was when the Landlord’s voice called out to us once again.   
“I know where I remember you, Little Missy,” my breath caught in the back of my throat and I clenched my jaw. “You work at that brothel near Scrapheap, right? You were a slave there.”   
“I earned my freedom,” I bit out, “I don’t work there anymore.” 
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just knock you out and sell you back to it? I’m sure they’re missing their best worker.” He leered at me and I felt myself shiver. His eyes felt like they were piercing right through my bones. I opened my mouth to speak again, but I was interrupted before I could make a sound.   
“You try anythin’ and I’ll shoot a bullet through your thick fuckin’ skull, alright?” Beside me, the Sherrif grinned and pointed his gun at the man in front of us. “I’d say that’s one good fuckin’ reason.”   
The Landlord let out a loud, unhinged laugh. A few people around us began to laugh as well, and then the Ghoul standing next to me began to laugh as well.   
He shot at the Landlord, and all hell broke loose. 
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tiredfox64 · 3 days
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Hi how was your day? Or night I just want to ask if you still take request 😅 if you don't then you can ignore me and if you still take then I have an idea for you 😆 after I read your hijab reader I immediately fall in love with your writing 😍 the way you write makes me feel like I'm the one in the story and I really really really really LOVE IT!!!!! and today I just came back from the hospital because of the breathing problems and stuff I had to stay for a week in hospital 🥲 I swear staying in hospital drive me crazy 😭 no privacy and syringe needles and medicines are scary! So... Maybe maybe... Can you write something makes me feel a little better?
(Please 🥺)
So the idea lin kuei bros and Earthrealm champions with the reader ... Can you make it female reader? Like the reader loves to dance in her room when she's alone and wearing the boys over sized clothes? And yeah like her boobies juggles bom bom yk yk 😇 Yeah like dancing like crazy or beautifully or anything you want with any song but I think international love from Pitbull will be better and it's okay if you want to change the song you know 😆 and the boys would be walking in her room while she was dancing alone crazy and enjoy herself to ask something or wanted something with her and they like ".......damn!" You know, you can do the reason anything you want you can make the reader not notice them or she did is really up to you ❤
And thank you if you did this for me 🥺 you might don't believe that but I love doing it enjoying myself alone in my room wearing big shirt and dancing like crazy to let out all stress and enjoying myself 😂 and sometimes my mother would caught me and I'm be really embarrassed 😂 even though I'm Muslim I still have a rocking star spirit you know I can't live my life without songs and music 😆 even though my life is s*itty but I'll always find a way to forget it and enjoy my life ❤
The same about you lovely I wish that you do just like me enjoying your life every day also make sure to take care of yourself drink water and sleep well don't be like me believe me staying in hospital isn't fun 🥲
And thank you again you can ignore it if you don't like it I won't be mad 😊 I understand that writing a stuff not easy Thank you ❤🌹
(Damn I talk like grandma 😂)
Swing Your Feet
Prior notes: I hope you are doing better! Hospitals really suck. I used to scream when they tried to use needles. Hopefully my writing can make you feel a little better.
Pairing: Lin Kuei Bros & Earthrealm Champions x Afab reader
Warnings ‼️: Can you handle the beat?
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There’s a sneaky weasel that has been stealing some clothes from some important people. Important people that are in the Lin Kuei and who are Earthrealm’s champions. Would you by any chance know where they could have gone?
Of course you do, you’re the weasel. A weasel who is blaring music in her room, spinning wildly like a tornado of rhythm. The boys on the other floor are forced to hear your music blaring while they play a game of Uno. You sure do have a mix of interesting music.
Johnny decided a nice way to get close with everyone was to play a nice game of Uno. Uno is never nice what was he thinking.
He invited the brothers to come to the Wu Shi academy to play as well. Tomas was the only one willing to play so Kuai Liang had to drag Bi-Han over. Oh hell, Kuai Liang decided to play as well. Not Bi-Han. Bi-Han and Uno don’t go together.
Round after round it was getting even more unhinged. Lots of yelling and accusations of cheating. You never heard it. You were too occupied with the blaring music and move your feet to match the beat.
“Ah dang it, Tomas! How do you keep beating us.” Johnny complained.
Tomas had this smug grin on his face. He was just lucky tonight. Or he was cheating. We’ll never know.
Johnny was done. Game over. He was about to pull down his sunglasses since he didn’t need to prevent anyone from cheating, only to feel that his sunglasses were gone. Not again. He looked around him and could not find his sunglasses.
“Come on! How did this happen again?” He yelled in annoyance.
“Another piece of our clothes has gone missing again.” Kung Lao said in defeat.
“Wait, your clothes have been stolen as well?” Kuai Liang asked.
Everyone looked at him in shock. So they too have been missing clothes at random. Not just accessories but full on outfits.
Kung Lao’s hoodie, Raiden’s shirts, button-ups from Johnny and Kenshi, and uniforms from Kuai Liang, Tomas, and Bi-Han. This is not a coincidence. This is suspicious. The only person who hasn’t gotten their clothes stolen is you.
“Alright,” Johnny slapped his hand against the table, “Start placing bets on what might be going on. Kenshi, go!”
“I think it’s you since you stole Sento and still won’t give it back.” He responded passive aggressively.
“Alright I’m not taking you seriously. Raiden, what do you think it is?”
“Uhh…a rat.”
“A rat is stealing our clothes?” Johnny questioned.
“A big rat. The kind that you told us about that challenge people in New York and Chicago.” A good guess Raiden, but no New York rat is gonna bother stealing clothes. They steal pizza and wallets.
“I think it’s someone with invisibility powers.” Kung Lao jumped in.
“That’s seems more reasonable. What else are we thinking?”
“Maybe it is the one who is blaring music in her room.” Bi-Han spoke up.
“What makes you think it’s her.” Kuai Liang asked.
“Because I watched her come out quickly and take his sunglasses before running back to her room.”
These fools were so focused on their game of Uno that they never noticed you coming out and sliding Johnny’s glasses right off his head. Bi-Han was the only one who caught you since he wasn’t playing. He didn’t care enough that you were taking them, he doesn’t even wanna be here.
Bi-Han and Johnny were left bickering about how he never said a thing while everyone else was contemplating about confronting you. You had no ill intent that’s for sure. It’s just nice wearing their clothes. It’s a girl thing.
“She’ll have to give our clothes back eventually. We don’t know what she is doing with them anyways.” Tomas chimed in.
That settles it. They decided to confront you on your actions. What you were doing with their clothes is a mystery to them. Maybe if they know what you are doing with them they will let you keep it.
They make their way to your room. The closer they get the louder the music is. Some of them could even feel the vibrations below their feet and in their hearts. The music you were playing all night was all over the place. Yet you still managed to move your hips and stomp your feet. You were groovin and movin. Some of them approved of the music, some were unsure of this was their type. Whatever floats your boat.
Johnny first tried knocking on your door, no answer. He knocked harder, no answer again. He sighed before trying the handle. You left your door unlocked by accident. He started opening to door.
“Hey, so quick question. Would you by any chance know where—OH!”
All their eyes fell upon you. There you were, jumping around on your bed with Johnny’s button-up shirt. The sleeves were long enough to cover your hands, making the excess material wave around as you moved. Your chest pressed against tightly against his chest. The buttons were putting up a fight as they tried to keep your chest from bursting out. They were jiggling as you pranced around. You had not a single clue that the boys were staring at you. The music was just too loud you never even heard Johnny speak.
It’s probably better that you don’t know. You know what they say: dance like no one’s watching.
The boys just stared in awe, even Bi-Han. If the shirt wasn’t a big clue or even that you are wearing Johnny’s glasses, all their clothes were scattered around your room. Every shirt, belt, and accessories that you scavenged was all over the place. You might have had a little fashion show before deciding to dance in Johnny’s clothes.
I won’t tell.
Your movements were enchanting them. Movements that were fluid and matched the rhythm well. Have you ever thought about being a background dancer? You would do well.
You must do this all the time considering you weren’t slipping up. You weren’t bumping into any furniture or tripping over your own feet. It’s natural to you. You’re having fun. And so are the boys I guarantee.
“Damn-“ Johnny was about to say more but all of them quickly covered his mouth.
They didn’t want you to know they were watching. You were in your natural state they must let you be. The music was about to end soon meaning you might finally realize they are there. No, no, they can’t have that. They slowly crept out of your room before closing the door quietly. It was as if they were never there.
There was a silence between them all. They have this information, what will they do with it? Nothing. They won’t change a thing. So what if you steal their clothes. You seemed to be putting it to good use.
“Tomas,” Bi-Han broke the silence, “do you wish to return for another round of that ridiculous card game? Perhaps next week.”
Tomas immediately nodded his head and so did Kuai Liang. They will be using Uno as their excuse for why they are coming around so often.
“I suggest we make it a weekly thing.“ Raiden knows you do this every week.
“I bet she will wear my hoodie next.” Kung Lao said with a goofy smile on his face.
“I see we are betting again. Fine, we’ll make this a weekly game night with some betting.” Kenshi was in for it.
“And then a show at the end.” Johnny was rubbing his hands like a malicious fly just thinking about it.
So it was settled. It’s like when men start digging holes at beaches it’s a mutual agreement no matter what. The brothers left peacefully while the champions got ready for bed.
And you had no idea that they had caught you red handed. And you won’t for a while.
I certainly won’t snitch for either side. You’ll know when you’ll know. But when you do, keep dancing. It’s the best thing to do in life.
After notes: I know you said one song but there were many options I could have used so I put them all in. Think of it as the music playing and changing as you continue to dance. They were also what I was listening to so don’t mind. I hope you can enjoy and yes I will try to take care of myself. I try my best to enjoy life and on days like this it can feel pretty easy. I hope you have a wonderful life. Adiós!
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artyandink · 1 day
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Five-Star
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Summary: You’ve been dating Dean Winchester, which is nothing short of a fever dream. A brilliant fever dream. But when you decide to test him on how much he wants you, you don’t get the answer you expected to have.
A/N - Welcome to the Karak Chaii-verse! I had an idea to write Dean with an Indian POC, since I’m one myself. Creds to @zepskies and her brilliant Midnight Espresso-verse, and you should definitely check that out. This is a small drabble that I thought up.
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Your family had moved to the US around a year after you were born. That’s because the monsters in India were far more dangerous than in America due to the origination of them from the depths of Indian mythology, such as a rakshasa or arunasura, but you found that here was far more escalated.
At least, you’d found out when you met the Winchesters.
You came from a long line of crazy good Indian hunters, so you were already a great one yourself. Back in India, your parents would pose as part of the CBI, but you had to resort to finding someone who could make you a believable FBI badge once you turned eighteen and got into hunting solo, which was around 1997. There you met Bobby Singer, who hooked you up with what he called the ‘All-American Hunting Kit’, which consisted of an array of fake IDs and a lore book. You were glad your training, done by your dad, was done by the intensity of monsters in India rather than here, otherwise it’d be harder to get by.
On a hunt for a vampire and wraith hybrid in Grant Pass, Oregon, you came across the Winchesters, the shorter of the two having dubbed the hybrid ‘Jefferson Starships’. That man was Dean, and you were taken by his charming, goofy attitude that switched to an attractive sort of intensity when faced with imminent danger. You just didn’t expect ‘imminent danger’ to be the mother of all monsters.
Once your parents had found out that you were hanging out with the Winchesters, who were at the centre of any and all supernatural trouble in America, they sent you a thousand calls telling you to get your ass out of there before you got killed. You being you, you didn’t listen. Not when you knew that you’d get withdrawal symptoms from not seeing the million dollar smile of Dean Winchester, which quickly won you over (and his lips too, which knew damn well what they were doing).
As for Sam, you quickly saw him as your little brother figure, who also helped you manage your unruly hair by recommending the right hair products that you now had stocked up. You’d both nerd over monsters, you’d tell him about all the ones you’d encountered in India while Sam told you stories about all that he and his brother had gone through.
Which was no less than a lot. And you thought India was a harder place to live, by what your parents told you. Here there’s the friggin’ Apocalypse.
Dean was obviously your favourite Winchester. He’d told you he really liked you about two years and a half after you met amid averting eyes and stammered words as he spewed compliment after compliment, standing there in the Bunker’s kitchen like a nervous melon in his grey robe, black shorts with hot dogs on them and black undershirt with fuzzy hair.
You’d cut his nervous ramblings off by pulling him in by the lapel of his robe, lips puckered in surprise as they met yours as the tangy taste of cherry and sweet, buttery pie crust flooded your taste buds and even more so when Dean quickly took control of the kiss, hands tangling in your hair and grabbing at soft curves like his life depended on it.
One thing Dean loved about you was your cooking. Your mom had taught you a wide array of Indian dishes that you could cook, and the moment the first bite of your rajma and rice graced Dean’s mouth, it was hook, line and sinker. You’d taught him how to eat chole bhature, roti and sabzi and which masala was which so he could know what the hell did you put to make him fall for you over and over again.
You were scrolling on your YouTube shorts one day when you came across a video of a woman asking her husband what his favourite snack was to see if he’d say her or not. You didn’t look like the definition of a snack right now, with your unwashed hair tied up in a bun that your mom taught you to do with no hair tie whatsoever in grey sweatpants, Dean’s undershirt and fuzzy mismatched socks, but you decided to try it out anyway as Dean came into the bunker’s living room, approaching you from behind with a delicate yet possessive cup of your chin and a kiss to your temple.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He greeted in that low voice of his that was effortlessly seductive even when he wasn’t trying, his hand sliding down to comfortingly rub over your chest and shoulder as he passed by. “Doin’ ok?” He sat down beside you, arm around your shoulder as his fingers began to play with your hair, warm green eyes trained on you.
You nodded, setting your phone aside. “Doing alright, yeah.” Then you decided to try out the question. “Dil, what’s your favourite snack?” You called Dean dil sometimes because it meant heart in Hindi, and he had yours.
The question got a chuckle out of him as he jerked his head to the right in amusement. “Awh, sweet girl, that’s hardly fair. I’d say beef jerky, but that new thing you, uh, introduced me to really raised the bar.” His brow furrowed in thought for a moment in contrast to the large grin on his face. “The aloo whatzitsname.”
“Aloo lachha.” You corrected with a giggle, barely holding back the urge to say what the answer was.
“Yeah, that. Or, uh, pie, but that’s a dessert and not a snack. Maybe that rajma stuff, but that’s a meal.” He continued rambling on any and all snacks he’d added to his palette since meeting you, until a bout of laughter from you slowed his roll. “What? What’s so funny, huh?”
“So… your favourite snack isn’t me.” You teased with a smirk, which got the cogs in his head turning. “You failed, sorry, honey.”
The words got a raise of his eyebrow and a slow and subtle roving of his eyes down your body and a bite of his lip. To him, you looked absolutely delicious. Like the best thing at a five star restaurant.
He stood up with a low grunt, facing you before grabbing you by your hips, hoisting you up so fast that you had to wrap your sweatpant-clad legs around his waist with a small shriek. “See, baby, that’s where you’re wrong.”
He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss that bordered on reverence and somehow the intention to devour at the same time, which had you moaning already. His tongue slipped into your mouth, briefly getting a taste and giving you the distinct flavour of the aloo chaat you had made for lunch mixed with beer before he pulled back and nipped your bottom lip, groaning at the feeling of your fingers now tugging at his hair.
“You…” Dean paused for a breath and a low chuckle, staring at you hungrily. “You are the whole damn buffet.”
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TAGLIST:
@k-slla @hobby27
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Text
salt's sweeter than sugar
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pairing: barista!yunho x barista!reader
genre: fluff
word count: 2.5k
a/n I'm back!!! For real this time. I've finished my first year of uni and I'll have plenty of time to focus on writing until the end of september!!
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Tying the apron around my waist, I turned to face the mirror as I pulled half of my hair up, making sure everything was out of my face before I opened the cafe for the day.  
“Well, good morning, darling. I didn’t expect to see you today. I haven’t seen you in quite a while.”  
Raising a brow, I shifted my eyes up to see Yunho leaning against the frame of the door with his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk ever so present on his face.  
“What are you doing in? I thought Jongho was in today?”  
It’s weird to be on the same shift with Yunho alone, our manager decided that it was best to put the two of us apart a month after I started working here because of how we were with each other. And even if we were on the same shift, there was another one of the boys with us.  
Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not like we don’t like each other, it’s just the fact that Yunho is very.... flirty, if you will. And I’m not exactly that comfortable with the amount of attention from him.  
“He called in sick today.” Yunho made his way over to me, hanging up his coat before putting on one of the brown aprons. “I was the only one available, so I’m covering.”  
Humming, I moved out of his way and made my way to the main area of the shop to the coffee machine, turning it on for the day. Allowing the water to flow through the machine for a minute, I let my eyes wander around the shop, landing on Yunho’s form as he walked out of the back room, shifting some of the chairs around. He had taken time to roll up the sleeves of his white button-up while he was in the back, the tattoos he had on his left arm on full display.  
“I’d take a picture if I were you, darling. It’ll last longer.”  
Huffing, I turned my attention back to the espresso machine, “Do you want something to drink before we open the shop?” Shifting my eyes up, my gaze darted from him to the table. “Also, that table in front of you is crooked, so if you could move it to the left a bit, it’d look great.”  
Yunho took a small step back as he looked at the table in front of him, which was indeed crooked.  
“Yeah, sure, um, an iced vanilla latte please, thank you, sweets.”  
Pouring milk and vanilla syrup over the ice, I put a pinch of salt in the ground coffee before slotting it into the espresso machine, I learnt a long time ago that a bit of salt help to bring out the natural sweetness and balances out the bitterness in the coffee.  
As Yunho made his way over to the counter, I wiped away to stray bits of ground coffee away from the counter. 
“Do you do this every shift?”  
Looking up briefly, I watched as he leaned against the counter, “Do what?”  
“Make drinks before a shift. I thought San was the only one that did that.”  
Pouring the espresso into the glass, I put a straw into it before handing it to Yunho.  
“Hmm, there’s a reason San and I are rarely on the same shift. We both make sure everyone is hydrated through the day.”  
Yunho picked the glass up, taking a sip from it before looking at me in surprise, “This is better than Sannie’s. How?”  
Smiling, I busied with making the hot latte for myself, “That’s a secret that you just can’t know.” 
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Sighing, I slid my phone back into my pocket as I walked out of the break room. 
The cafe was mostly empty, most people opting to takeaway instead of sitting in. 
I walked up to Yunho behind the counter as he prepared some more takeaway cups. 
“Your turn for lunch. I’ll finish this up for you.” 
“Oh. Thank you. Could you do the coffee beans as well? We’re running a bit low.” 
Nodding, I took over his task as he moved away from the counter. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Now go! Enjoy your lunch break!” 
Yunho grinned as he walked into the back, “See you in half an hour princess.” 
Staring at his retreating figure, I shook my head in disbelief. I genuinely cannot tell if he’s just like this with everyone or if he just wants to annoy me. 
Putting our logo stickers onto the cups, I slowly made my way through the pile, occasionally serving a customer coffee. 
Placing the cups into the holders, I opened the cupboard under the espresso machine for the coffee beans. 
‘Ding’ 
Hearing the bell ring from above the door, I stood back up to serve the customer, the I froze slightly when I saw the person. 
Putting a small smile on, I walked up to the till. 
“Hi, what can I get you today?” 
“Just a latte, like always. Thank you, darling.” 
Trying not to gag, I put the order in and couldn’t help but think that I much preferred Yunho calling me that. 
“Alright, that’s gone through. If you could just go to the end counter for your coffee, that’d be great.” 
Moving behind the espresso machine, I quickly refilled the coffee beans before starting on the latte. Concentrating on the grinder, I tried not to think about the man currently leaning on the counter and staring at me. He was a man in his thirties with greasy hair that covered the sides of his face. He comes in every week for the same order but makes weird small talk and comments that just don’t sit right with me. 
“You should have your hair pulled up more often. You’ve got a lovely neck.” 
Taking a glance at him, I could see that he has now practically pressed his whole torso onto the counter. 
Smiling awkwardly, I head the jug of milk against the steamer, “Yeah? Sorry, but could you -” 
“Yeah. You should maybe start wearing a necklace as well, I’m sure it’ll make your neck even prettier.” 
In a rush to make his coffee, I accidently blasted a jet of steam onto my wrist, causing me to wince and drop the towel I was using to clean the steamer. 
The skin on the inside of my wrist was now bright red with the constant throbbing and burning sensation accompanying it. 
I was just about to pick up the towel when Yunho stepped up beside me, gently pushing me to the side. 
“I’ll finish making the coffee, darling, you go and put your arm under some cold water and put some ointment on.” 
Nodding, I made my way into the back, trying to seem like I was rushing as I tried to get away from the guy. 
Turning the tap on, I put my wrist under the cold water, sighing in content when the burning sensation subsided. 
“So that’s the guy?” 
“What?” 
Confused, I turned to see Yunho leaning against the doorframe. 
“The weird guy that makes creepy comments about you and makes you feel uncomfortable.” 
“Yeah, that’s him. I don’t even know how he knows what shifts I work because they aren’t set.” 
Turning off the tap, I grabbed a towel to dab away the water, before Yunho came up beside me, a tube of ointment in his hand. 
“Why haven’t we got him banned yet?” 
Watching Yunho’s slender fingers collect some of the gel and put on my wrist, I shook my head. 
“Seonghwa and Hongjoong tried get him banned, but head office said it wasn’t that serious. On the bright side, they also said it causes something to happen then they’ll think about it.” 
Yunho nodded as he screwed the top back on, “Do you want to take the rest of the day off? We’ve only -” 
“It’s just a small burn, that I don’t even feel anymore. I’m fine to work Yunho.” 
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“No mum, I’m staying in tonight.” 
Plopping down onto the sofa, I held my phone up, staring at my mother's face on the screen. 
“Why? It’s a Friday night! You don’t have work tomorrow, go out with friends! Or on a date!” 
Giving her a deadpan look, I shook my head, “Well, I originally planned to go out tonight with San and Yeosang but San landed himself in A&E so -” 
‘Ding Dong’ 
Pausing mid-sentence, I looked at my mum before looking back, towards the corridor. 
“Expecting someone?” 
“Umm, no, I don’t know who that is. Give me a minute.” 
With my mum still on the phone, I stood up and made my way to the door. Opening the door slightly, my eyes widened at the sight of the person stood there. 
“Good evening, darling.” 
Opening the door more, my eyes landed on the takeaway he held in his hand. 
“What’re you doing here? I thought -” 
“And who’s this young man?” 
Looking down at the phone in my hand, I forgot that I was still on the phone with my mum. 
Opening my mouth to reply, I was silenced by Yunho taking the phone from me and smiling brightly at my mum. 
“Hello, I’m Yunho.” He lifted the bags in his hand at the phone. “Just here to have dinner with Y/N.” 
Staring blankly at Yunho, I tried to comprehend the situation before me. 
“Oh! But Y/N was just saying that -” 
Plucking my phone out of Yunho’s hand, I sent my mum a small smile, “Mum, I’m gonna hang up now, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 
“Okay, enjoy your date. Love you.” 
“Love you too.” 
Hanging up the call, I turned back to Yunho, who had made himself comfortable against my wall. 
“Okay, what’re you doing here?” 
Yunho stood up a bit straighter as he shrugged, “I just told your mum, I’ve brought dinner for us.” 
“Why?” 
“Because San and Yeosang texted me. They thought you’d feel a bit lonely, since the three of you have this routine every Friday.” 
I looked from him to the takeaway, back to him again. 
“Is that -” 
“From the Indonesian restaurant on the corner next to the train station.” 
Well, I can’t say no to that now, can I? 
“Are you gonna let me in or what?” Yuho raised a brow at my space-out state. 
“Fine. Come in.” 
I stepped aside from the doorway, taking the food from him as he took his shoes off. 
“How’s that burn doing anyway, sweetheart?” 
Taking the food out of the bag and placing it on the kitchen island, I looked up to see Yunho perched across from me, leaning his elbows on the wood. 
“It’s fine, barely notice it. Now, question though. How do you know about the Indonesian restaurant?” 
“San and Yeosang mentioned it.” 
Placing a couple of plates and cutlery in front of us, I wasn’t too surprised at his answer. Know those two, they probably told him to get the food from there or else I’d say no. 
Quietly eating our dinner, I glanced up at Yunho every now and then. In place of the white shirt and black slacks were a black shirt and black jeans, paired with a leather jacket that was thrown over the back of my sofa. 
Finishing off the last bit of food, I stood up from the kitchen stool, stretching my back out a bit, earning a chuckle from Yunho. 
Raising a brow, I looked to him, “What?” 
He shook his head as he got up from his place, “Nothing, darling.” 
Frowning, I watched as he gathered up the plates, “You know, I can’t tell if you’re like this with everyone or not.” 
He out the dishes in the sink for me, before turning around, “Like what?” 
“The nicknames and the flirting. I can’t tell if it’s just how you are or what.” 
Yunho took a couple of steps towards me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not like this to everyone. Can you actually not tell?” 
“What?” 
“That I like you and I want to take you out on a date.” 
Blinking owlishly at him, “You what now?” 
Yunho let out a small laugh, “I want to take you out on a date. What’d you say.” 
Looking at him, I could see the nervousness in his eyes, which told me that he does actually mean it. 
“Yeah, okay. I’ll go on a date with you” 
Maybe it was the way answered it, but Yunho still seemed nervous, “You don’t have to say yes. It’s not gonna make work weird if you say no, I mean we barely -” 
“Yunho,” I took a step forward, placing a hand on his tattooed arm, trying to stop his rambling. “I’m saying yes because I want to.” 
Yunho broke out into a grin, “Okay! I’ll send you the detail?” 
Nodding, I walked Yunho to the door, “Yeah.” 
Once he had his shoes and jacket back on, I held open the door for him. 
“Right, I better get going now, see you soon.” 
Yunho quickly leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss on my cheek, before turning to walk to his car. 
Surprised, I watched as he walked away, a slight bounce in his steps. Honestly, behind all the dark clothes and tattoos, he’s a puppy.
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“So, how’d it go on Friday?” 
Looking up from the mirror, I saw Yeosang lean against the breakroom table. 
“Hmmm?” Concentrating on putting my hair up, my brain wasn’t quite processing Yeosang’s question. 
“How’d it go with Yunho on Friday.” 
Trying to not grin, I nodded, “Good, he was good company.” 
Wooyoung entered through the back door, doing a double take when he saw me, “Why’re you so happy at 6 o’clock in the morning.” 
“What?” 
Wooyoung waved a hand at my face, “Your face is way too happy for this time of the morning. Why?” 
My eyes went from Wooyoung to Yeosang, who had a raised brow as if to say ‘do tell’. 
“Well,” turning back to the mirror to straighten out my shirt, “I’ve got a date Saturday night.” 
Wooyoung let out a screech, while Yeosang looked smug. 
“What? Who? How? When? WHO?” 
In a blink of an eye, Wooyoung was next to, bouncing on his feet like an overexcited toddler. 
“Come on. Tell me. Please.” 
“Yunho asked me out on Friday when San had to go to the A&E.” 
Yeosang took out his phone, as he made his way out the back door, “I’ve got to tell San about this. He lost the bet.” 
Staring at his back in disbelief, “Yeosang!” 
Unbelievable. Leave it to these two to bet on my love life. 
“Okay. Give me the details.” 
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canthelpit0 · 22 hours
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Skinny
Pairing: bf!Chris sturniolo x Reader
Wordcount: 700
Summary: you talk to your boyfriend about the internet (literally just the song skinny, by Billie Eilish)
Warnings: really short, angst(?), body image, the internet, hurt/comfort (?), direct quotes, idfk
(Litterally wrote this during a 1h car trip, so it’s rlly short. I was listening to the song while writing this. Hope you guys like it tho <3)
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I recently met the triplets in LA. We quickly became friends, but I always felt drawn to Chris the most.
Sure they’re all considerably hot, but there was just something about Chris that made me feel something..
Turns out I wasn’t the only one that felt it, and soon enough Chris confessed to me. Wich meant a lot, considering he has commitment issues, but he was willing to commit… for me?
We dated for a while until I realized,
I fell in love for the first time.
I may only be 20, but those 20 years felt so eternally long. Chris was everything I’d been waiting for all my life, being the hopeless romantic.
I started to go to the gym more often, and eat healthier. Not for any other reason then, I was happy.
I also started to notice that Chris’ Pepsi habits got better, and he started to eat healthier as well.
We were talking one day, both of us sitting on opposite sides of Chris’ bed.
“People say I look happy, just because I got skinny.” I sigh.
The only reason why I look happier is because I have a working healthy relationship, because I’m in love. Not because my body changed.
Chris tilts his head to the side his eyes slightly furrowed as if asking me if I’m serious.
But the ‘old’ me was still me. Maybe even the real me, my actual personality when I’m on my own, And I think she is pretty.
I never really had body image issues. I never struggled with eating.
I got famous pretty young, like 17 or so. And back then I was a kid, of corse I liked to eat. I wasn’t even that big really. I was just a kid, I didn’t care about it too much.
I’m not magically happier than I was before. I still cry.
“People say I’m acting my age now.” I sigh. “Am I already on the way out, am I ‘falling off’?”
Chris tilts his head not saying anything just trying to process my words. As if my words are outlandish to him.
“I feel like a bird in a cage, you know. With all these expectations and rumors.” I sigh softly. All these things have been bugging me for a while.
“I’m sorry.” He looks at me with not pitty but understanding. “You were my secret,” when we started dating we hadn’t told the internet. “- and I didn’t get to keep it”
But like couples do we would go out on dates. With both of us being touchy people, PDA was big. But a random fan took a picture of us kissing and it spread like wildfire.
I sigh heavily at the memories. How betrayed I had felt by those so called fans looking into my business.
“The internet is hungry for the meanest kind of funny, and somebody’s gotta feed it.” I purse my lips closing my eyes briefly.
“I suppose that’s true” Chris breaths out his eyes locked on mine.
“People really think suddenly all my problems are gone and I’m all happy, not because I’m in a healthy and stable relationship but because i got skinny.” I huff working myself up, and getting angrier and angrier at something that seems like nothing.
“Do you still cry?” I ask rhetorically, my previous breathy and small voice now loud and clear. “I mean I do.” I reply to my own question.
I look at my boyfriend and the way he looks back at me with such understanding.
We look at each other in silence. “I love you. And I’ve loved you for so long. And that’s not going to change.”
Chris says firmly a small gentle smile forming on his lips. Chris opens his arms waiting for me to come to him.
I’m not upset per se, it’s just annoying seeing people comment on my body and happiness and whatnot. It’s none of their business.
I’m a content creator. I didn’t ask for them to criticize me.
I sit up shuffling over to Chris. I let myself fall into his embrace.
But in Chris’, the love of my life’s arms, like this, it doesn’t matter anyway.
Masterlist
A/N: hope you guys like this style of writing. If h goys want to be on the taglist comment. Asks & requests are open 💕
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life , @h3arts4harry , @whosthislyssbitch , @jamiesturniolo , @sturniololover-09 , @zayyluvz , @sturnzsblog
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atzaurora · 23 hours
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먹다-"eat."
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
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✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
let them eat cake
member: ot8
pairing: fem!reader x idol!members (9th member au)
type: imagine (angst, fluff/comfort)
warnings: !!ED!! dni if you cannot cope with any topic about disordered eating or eds in general!
a/n: I thought about writing about mental health topics for a while now and decided to give it a go now. I myself struggle a lot with unhealthy eating habits and it might never go away so I think it's a great comfort story for all the people who feel the same :3 please know that you can text me anytime and you are beautiful!!! now enjoy ^^
here's my masterlist!
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"shit" you mumble, stepping down from the scale again only to step back on right away. 2 kilo more than yesterday, only if you hadn't eaten like basically half of the fridge in one go. but you couldn't help yourself.
staring at all the snacks, your stomach empty for at least 5 days. you had to.
so you ended up sitting on the kitchen floor, mascara running down your cheeks as you stuffed food into your mouth, more and more, till you physically couldn't fit any more into your stomach. exhausted from everything you went straight to bed, after cleaning everything up, making sure none of the others saw what had happened to all the food.
you didn't wanna be like this, starved, low on energy, no motivation for even the smallest things but you couldn't do anything against it. but you didn't tell anyone, in fact, your management was more than happy about how your body looked which only made you keep going, -1,2,3,4,5,6... you needed to loose more, the desire to lose more, now too big to stop.
you could see the others starting to notice, the way Seonghwa had looked into your eyes after laying his hand around your wrist, he could feel how thin it was. "honey are you alright?" he had asked. "I'm fine, everything is great, why would you ask?" you bluntly responded, that answer already being on autopilot by now.
he left you alone after that response, he didn't want to bother you, yet he knew something was wrong. and he wasn't the only one, everyone looked at you worried after you spit out yet another "I'm not hungry" when they offered you food. but it still worked. no one was brave enough to speak up and say that they knew you were in fact not fine.
today was another day of dance practice. a quite intense one actually, which was not the perfect combination to a 5 days empty stomach. but you had to pull through. everybody went into the car, Jongho getting in last and shutting the door as he drove you all to the company.
in the practice room, everyone set down their things, turning on the music and getting in position. standing up already made your vision go black for a few seconds, you didn't even wanna know what would happen if you did such an intense dance. but you guess you are about to find out.
the room was a whirlwind of activity as everyone settled in, stretching and chatting, the atmosphere a mix of excitement and exhaustion. You placed your bag in the corner, taking a deep breath as you tried to ignore the gnawing emptiness in your stomach. You could feel the concerned glances from the other members, their silent worry a weight you couldn’t shake off.
"Y/N, you okay?" Wooyoung’s voice broke through your thoughts, his eyes searching yours for any sign of truth.
"Yeah, just a bit tired," you lied, forcing a smile. "Ready to dance."
You moved into position, the music starting to pulse through the speakers. The choreography was demanding, each step requiring precision and energy you didn’t have. As the dance progressed, you felt your limbs growing heavier, your vision starting to blur. You pushed yourself harder, desperate to keep up, 'don't you dare give in now' you told yourself, but your body had reached its limit.
Halfway through the routine, your legs gave out, and you crumpled to the floor. then nothing. not a sound, no light, just complete darkness. you took it too far this time. fuck. the music stopped abruptly, replaced by the sounds of panicked voices and hurried footsteps. your vision and hearing then came back after a few seconds but everything was blurry, seemed almost unreal.
"Y/N!" San was the first to reach you, his face a mix of fear and concern. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"I’m fine," you tried to say, but your voice was weak, barely audible. The room spun around you, and you felt yourself being lifted off the ground, strong arms carrying you out of the practice room.
Everything became a blur after that, a flurry of worried faces and hurried words. You were taken to the company’s infirmary, where a doctor checked your vitals, their expression grave.
"She’s severely malnourished and dehydrated," the doctor said, looking at the others. "She needs rest and proper nutrition immediately."
Hongjoong’s face was tight with worry, his usual calm demeanor shattered. "How could this happen?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
You were too exhausted to respond, your body shutting down as you were hooked up to an IV. The room was quiet, the silence heavy with unspoken fears. You drifted in and out of consciousness, feeling a hand squeeze yours gently. Based on what you could feel you were pretty sure it was Wooyoung. you knew how his hand felt in yours and this gave you at least a bit of comfort in this moment.
When you finally woke up, you were back at the dorm, lying in your bed. The room was dimly lit, and you could hear soft voices from the living room. You tried to sit up, but your body protested, every muscle aching.
"Hey, don’t move too much." Yunho's voice was gentle as he entered the room, a worried smile on his face. "You need to rest."
You looked at him, tears welling up in your eyes. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn’t want to worry anyone."
Yunho sat down beside you, his expression softening. "We’re more worried about you than anything else, Y/N. We’ve noticed for a while now, but we didn’t know how to help."
"Why didn’t you say anything?" you asked, feeling a mix of guilt and relief.
"We wanted to, but we didn’t want to push you away," he admitted. "We’ve all been so worried."
The door opened, and the rest of the members filed in, their expressions a mix of relief and concern. Yeosang stepped forward, his eyes filled with determination.
"We’ll look out for you more, Y/N. We’re going to get through this together."
Tears streamed down your face as you nodded, the weight of your struggles finally lifting. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but with their support, you felt a glimmer of hope. You weren’t alone anymore.
Mingi handed you a bowl of soup, his smile encouraging. "Start with this, okay? Small steps."
You took the bowl, feeling the warmth spread through your hands. You looked at the soup for a bit, handing it back to Mingi, who gave you a confused glance. "can you do it?" you asked quietly. "you want me to feed you?" he smiled softly "sure sweetheart." he lifted the spoon giving you small portions to swallow.
the others sat around you, their presence a comforting reminder that you were loved and cared for.
For the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of peace. You had a long road ahead, but with them by your side, you knew you could face it. Together.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
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specialagentartemis · 14 hours
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thinking more about trigger warnings and. Bluntly, I think except for a couple specific types of things—like a rape scene in a book, or gunshot noises in an audio drama—content warnings are almost impossible to be useful when they come from somebody who doesn’t know you.
I talk about a really good horror movie I saw to my mom, and she asks, “Would I like it?” and I can say, “there’s one pretty bloody and gross scene, and one scene of a chimpanzee attacking somebody but it’s mostly offscreen, and otherwise, it’s mostly suspense and psychological, I think you’d like it.” That’s a content warning. It’s also only really possible because I know my mom and I know what makes her uncomfortable (gore and excessive violence, mostly). I was reading one of the bleakest, most depressing, most unsettling books I’ve read in my life, and chatting about it with a friend, and I said upfront that it’s bleak and upsetting, and also went into the background of the author a little bit—he wrote it as he was in and out of hospitals, dying of cancer. My friend’s dad was at that point in the hospital with cancer. Because I knew that I wanted to contextualize the book if he was considering reading it. A lot of the time when I’m talking about sci-fi books with another friend who reads a lot more of them and faster than I do, they will often let me know, “It developed a really bad straight romance halfway through,” or “the romance arc wasn’t awful but was annoying,” or “I actually didn’t mind the romance in this one.” These can be thought of as content warnings, telling me that kind of content to expect and brace myself so I don’t get disappointed by another stupid romance subplot in a book a otherwise was looking forward to. “It’s got SO much body horror” can either be a warning or a recommendation, depending on who you’re talking to. We trade our assessments of books, and let each other know what we might like and what we won't like. That's super important—and impossible to impersonalize.
Especially when it’s stuff like “yeah it was uncomfortably sexist” or “the author writes Asian people in a really uncomfortable way” or “there’s just random fatphobia consistently throughout” or “one of the magic things in it relies on the idea that love is what makes you human and people who don’t fall in love are monsters” which the author obviously isn’t going to warn for and is going to hurt some people more than others, and some people probably aren’t even going to notice. You kind of have to know somebody before you can assess what they might need to know going into something.
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hungryforjay · 1 day
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𓆈 nrk || harry potter au
𓆈 not gryffindor slander i am a gryffindor myself🫡 first dialogue tags are ib a writing prompt || word count uhh short
˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗
The witching hour approached quickly. The clouds were sparse and the sky was dark, save for the few stars that twinkled alongside the moon. The weeping willow swayed and the wind whispered through the leaves, flittered through the grass, swept the strands of your bangs and lifted them off your forehead. It nipped at your skin and tickled your calves, your robe doing little to cover your skin.
Riki lies next to you half asleep, eyelids fluttering like the wind.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” Riki mumbles, startling you out of your trance fixed on the thestrals lurking by, “The shit your sister says?”
You watched a fallen leaf twirl onto a dirt bed.
“Does anyone feel good about the shit our siblings say?”
He shifted onto his elbow, his palm hoisting up his head. Riki looked very serious for once, more than you’ve ever seen him before.
“It should bother you. Everyone knows the stigma surrounding Slytherins is old news. You’re not evil. Do you know that?”
You rolled your eyes, leaning farther back on your hands to look up at the sky. It was the same conversation over and over again. Of how your perfect prefect sister, an insufferable Gryffindor, acted like you didn’t exist because you were sorted into Slytherin. And that was four years ago.
“Do you know that?”
Riki scrunched his face, fingers gripping the grass below him. “What?”
“You keep bringing it up so much, I’m starting to think you’re repeating it as a reminder to yourself.”
Scoffing, Riki ripped the weeds of grass from under his hands and rested his head on the dirt bed behind. He chuckled.
“Maybe I have to, y’know? Seeing as you aren’t doing anything to shift the narrative.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re just letting her going around spreadin’ shit about us. Nobody wants to be around us. Not even our own house, we’re outsiders in a place we’re supposed to call home.”
His eyes avoided yours, opting to stare at the moon that colored his pupils white.
“I’m not obligated to do shit Riki. They can think whatever they want. They-“
“They think we’re Death Eaters! That’s not something one can just think—about Y/n. They think we’re murderers…and I dunno about you, but I’m not okay with being labeled as a fuckin’ murderer. I’m a Slytherin. Not, and I repeat, not, a murderer.”
You stare wide eyed as he rested his head back on the bed of grass, shutting his eyes with a harsh sigh.
“Why do you think we’re out here, Y/n? We can’t even get a sliver of peace in our own fuckin’ dorm.” Riki muttered with and like the wind, soft and sharp.
It’s been a long time since you’ve cared about anything real. The last time you tried you ended up defeated against the triumph of your sister. But looking at Riki’s scrunched face, his frustration peaking through from the tremble in his lip had reminded you that he was real, his feelings were real.
Letting her win means losing Riki.
Riki, the only person who stuck beside you the moment you were sorted.
A low huff grumbled in the distance, pulling your attention off Riki. Two thestrals knocked their chins against each other, huffing and whining, playfulness reminding you of the relationship you shared with the boy ignoring you to your right.
“Let’s get her back.”
Riki cracked open an eye at the sound of your voice, eyebrow arched in question. “Get her back?”
You raised your eyebrows in response, heartbeat reaching your ears in anticipation of his answer. He pushed his upper body up with the heart of his palm, a sly grin creeping up the corners of his mouth.
He reached out a hand and you slapped yours in his, shyly grinning back.
“Slick the slytherin you are—Welcome back Y/n.”
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scrubbinn · 2 days
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Slime HRT Day 1: First Pages
I was told I should write down my experiences in this journal. I'm only really doing this because I was told I didn't have to share my writings with anyone except for emergencies, whatever that means. Today is the first day of my new life, and becoming something not human anymore.
I've seen a lot of social media about species HRT. I think it’s supposed to be “Human Removal Therapy”. There’s a lot of people online bashing it, and I'm sure someone is going to try and ban it eventually, but for right now it's pretty unrestricted. To be honest, I am fascinated by it. Becoming something inhuman seemed so, I don't know, cool I guess, but it felt distant, like it would never happen to me, or I'd be labeled a freak by my friends. It was only until my girlfriend brought it up in a passing conversation that I gained the courage to admit I was curious about it. She said I should go for it. The amount of joy I felt then and there was like a 20 ton weight had just exploded out of my chest, but in a good way! We spent the rest of the night talking about treatments and articles, I never felt so happy except then and there, to be seen like that.
My legs were shaking when I met with that doctor. I was told it was normal to be nervous, but it really felt like I was going to just have a breakdown the entire time we talked. There was a lot of psychological exams and way, WAY too much paperwork that basically said I was sure I would be happy and cool with going through with this process. The doctor was patient at least, though he was rude with how little he tried to hide the boredom of his job. Besides that, there was something about him that just made him feel like this was the last thing he wanted to do, the kind of man who’s a total pushover. We eventually got to the question I was dreading “what was I here for, what am I looking to be?” My voice just suddenly stop working right there. It's so funny how I saw an actual dragon on my way here and somehow my request seemed so much more ridiculous. That stupid doctor kept prying me to just tell him until my frustration surpassed my anxiety, and I was able to blurt out that I wanted to be a slime.
I don't know when or why, but I've always liked the idea of slimes. It's their fluidity I think. Being able to morph myself the way I want whenever I want. I mean, how can I trust I'll be happy with my body shape everyday when I can't even pick a favorite color. I spent so much time writing out my own ideas of how their biology worked, or creating a bunch of slime girls for stories I never finished writing. It took me a while to realize I wanted to be just like them, like how it took me a while to realize I wanted to be a girl too.
I thought I'd get laughed out of his office, I mean I've seen the photos and stories of people on slime HRT but it just felt different, like I was going one step too far, I was probably just super anxious, I felt so relieved when he just showed me a list of slime variants instead of laughing. There were so many different options on the list, slimes made of just gel, sap, wax, and there were so many different colors, but that was the problem, they all felt right, I wanted to be any of them.
It was so selfish to ask, but I needed to know if a slime that could change color was possible, or something that could truly transform into any kind of slime. He asked what I meant, if I was looking into becoming a shapeshifter. I shook my head no and said I wanted something like a chameleon. He took off his glasses and pinched his nose, like the weight of every request he ever had just hit him. We, kind of, argued for a while. Well it was him telling me all the different reasons it wouldn’t work or how some people had set up safe LED strips to become a slime strobe globe of different colors, but for some reason it was the one thing I didn’t want to budge on. The one thing I was certain I wanted was that I wouldn’t be certain about my final choice. I was actually ready to just punch this old man until he suddenly folded to my demands and told me he'd need time to make a new variant for something like that. Something about a membrane and chromatophores I think. He also stated, bluntly, that I still needed to pick the type of slime. Being able to switch from red to blue is one thing but there needs to be a base. 
There were a lot of good options, to the point it took me an hour to go through everything and just think about it. I was probably pushing him a bit too close to his next appointment with how long I was searching through options. It certainly makes me wonder how anyone can just know the answer right away. Eventually I had to settle on one and chose the soap variant. I was told it wasn’t actual soap, but it smelled nice and helped deal with germs. I’m not a germaphobe but I like the idea of smelling nice all the time.
After that, I was told I would be contacted eventually when my medication was ready. The wait could be best be described as brutal. There were a lot of calls I made only for me to be told it wasn’t ready yet. I thought I got scammed, like I went to the wrong place and that quack doctor was just faking everything and I wouldn't ever get to be the real me. The most I got was a message once a month saying the research was going well, if I was lucky. 
It was about a year when I got a call back from him, explaining that my medication was ready. I'll be honest, I thought he wouldn't have ever completed it and just stole $600 out of my bank account for a single appointment. I have it now though, a bottle of gel capsules. They taste awful, like shoving soap into my mouth, which makes sense thinking about it. Apparently I won't need to take my normal hormone medication after a bit. Which is good because it's really expensive to pay for both. I guess that concludes my thoughts on the first day. The doc wants me to keep writing down my physical changes but also that I write down my emotional state as well. I don't really get why that’s so important, but whatever, it’s the least I can do if I finally get to be the slime girl I always wanted to be. I can't wait to see how I turn out.
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Thank you for reading through this story. While I’m sure it’s obvious, this is a story inspired by @ayviedoesthings own Dragon HRT as well as @welldrawnfish Fish HRT. I’ve loved these stories ever since they first came out. But I never felt like I had a story of my own to write until I read @sandyca5tle own slime HRT. Please check out all these people’s stories if you haven’t already, and thank you to sandyca5tle for really lighting the fire in me that made me want to try my hand at this sort of thing. I have plans to continue this for a while, not sure how long it’ll be but I want to be able to write a new segment at least one post every one to two weeks. I hope you enjoyed this, and please let me know if you have any advice on how to improve my writing. Thank you so much for reading all this, seriously, it means the world to me. 
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