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#because a lot of the times people will just breeze through them without giving the craft too much thought
franeridan · 11 months
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man I just !!!!!!!! ADORE comics they're a whole pain in the ass to make and I curse my way through the process 90% of the time but there was really no other way for me to tell stories like there was really no other path nothing makes me as happy as a well crafted comic not even good animation there's no better format than comics for me
#im not saying they're the best format objectively I'm saying a good comic sends me into outer space always#and the range is so wide because anyone and everyone can write a comic#i don't remember who it was but a mangaka for sure#that said they write comics because they're not good enough at drawing for illustration work#and not good enough at writing for writing a book#was it the szs author in kakushigoto? maybe?#but that's TRUE the comic format is forgiving more than most others when telling a story#because a lot of the times people will just breeze through them without giving the craft too much thought#so anyone can make a decent comic which meand that anyone Does#and that means in turn that sometimes you forget that some people#some people are GOOD at comics#they're EXCELLENT at comics#and then you read a very very VERY good comic#I#I read a very very VERY good comic#and suddenly I'm like this is the only format ever#because it's true you don't need to be good at much to write a comic but an exceptional comic artist has to be#SO GOOD#at composition and simplification and understanding the medium they're using#comics give you so much freedom to do what you want which means you can actually fuck it up extremely easily#I don't know how to explain it any better but comics are insane to me#and through my life I've always wanted to tell stories and to tell you the truth I'm way better at writing than i am at drawing#it comes easier to me the process just goes smoother#so i thought maybe i should write a book instead so many times#but no way man no way#there was no way I was ever not gonna try making comics even if i have to suffer my way through them#i love comics SO MUCH#bro#so damn much
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barefoothighlander · 1 year
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Hi luv! Can you please do some headcanons of ghost having a civilian wife who is an absolute RAY of sunshine, but he keeps the fact that he’s married a secret even from 141. And when they do find out they’re just like??? How??? She’s like so cute???
yes ugh, soft!ghost has my heart, he'd be such a cutie obsessed with his wife, I love this, also obsessed with gossipy Soap and Gaz, they'd be so invested in Ghost's life
warnings: none just fluff
You and Simon had been married 3 years, meeting 5 years ago while he was on leave back home and you were visiting family
You bumped into him on accident after losing all sense of direction on a back street.
He was intrigued because most people are frightened by his outward appearance, but you just smiled at him apologizing profusely.
He had awkwardly asked for your number and you gave it to him, going on a few dates before he fell madly in love with you. Completely enamoured with your smile and personality, always giggling and happy, a stark contrast to how he usually was.
You made him see things in a softer light, constantly dragging him to farmer’s markets and gardens, he followed your every whim, just happy to spend time with you.
He had proposed a year after the two of you became official, deciding he couldn’t go another day without being married to you.
A week after the proposal he had to deploy, it broke his heart to leave you but it made him even more eager to come back to you.
You knew most of what his job consisted of, he spared you the more gory parts as they always made you squeamish. The two of you making it a rule to keep your relationship secret, even from the rest of the team.
After you married he made a point of calling you every day from base just to check in, even though he’d see you right as soon as he got home.
On a particularly difficult mission, Simon had gotten hit in the head, his helmet knocked off and thrown to the dirt, a small piece of paper falling out.
Soap rushed over to him to make sure he was okay, noticing the small paper and grabbing at it as Simon reached to tear it from his hands. It was a photo of you, hair messy from the wind, skin glowing from the sun outside, bright smile plastered on your face as you smiled at your husband behind the camera.
“Lt have’ya a lass,” Soap asked, dodging Ghost’s attempts to retrieve the photo. “Tell me and I’ll give it back”. Sick of Soaps games Ghost submits. “She’s my wife”
Word spread quickly through the team on behalf of Soap’s loudmouth, all the men rushing to question Ghost about his secret relationship.
“No shot you married her, she’s so.. Cute? Smiley? And you’re so” Gaz is cut off by Simon’s dark stare.
All the men pestered Ghost about meeting you as he continued to decline, Price offering a simple ‘congratulations son’
One day you came to base to drop off some gear that Simon forgot at home, immediately greeted by Soap. “No way” he says, stepping towards you with open arms, pulling you into a hug. You hug him back confused. “Sorry, have we met” “No but I’ve heard a lot about you lass”
Simon rushes out of the base practically tearing Soap off you, giving him a warning with a quiet stare as you tug on his jacket, reaching on your toes to lift his mask slightly, planting a kiss to his lips and smiling before handing him the bag of gear which he takes before running a hand softly over your back.
“This is so strange” Soap responds taken aback by the sight of you two, one tall and brooding, face covered by a skull mask and the other a practical ray of sunshine, wearing a long flowing dress that leaves the top of your chest open to the breeze.
“I will say, you’re much prettier in person, the picture doesn’t do justice” “That’ll do” Simon warns as you giggle.
Against Simon’s wishes you invite the team over for a dinner, the weather was too nice to not eat outside as you got to meet each member, learning more about them than Simon would ever tell you.
“I’m sorry it just makes no sense,” Gaz says as you quirk an eyebrow in question. “I just mean you’re so nice, and the Lieutenant is so daunting” you laugh, “trust me, he’s not so scary with the mask off,” He bows his head in embarrassment as you break down his strict facade.
“So what do you two even do? Gasp does Lt cuddle?” Soap asks almost giggling, Simon swears that he could kill Johnny right there. You spare a glance at your husband before meekly nodding in Soap’s direction as he and Gaz are taken in a fit of laughter, you shrug your shoulders in a silent sorry to Simon.
The team made it a tradition to now show up at your home at least once a week to have dinner and some drinks, or just play some board games, intent on getting to know you better, almost punishing Ghost for keeping you a secret.
Cleaning up dinner Simon slides behind you wrapping you in a hug, a small show of affection he had been holding off on while the team was in view. “You’re telling them too much” As he kisses the base of your neck, you turn your body to him, “It’s nice to get to know them, I like seeing you around your friends” he scoffs as the term, then thinks about it shit maybe we are friends.
The time spent after at work Simon was constantly pestered about when he’d make Price and Soap uncles while Gaz had proclaimed himself as your future child’s fairy godmother.
Simon grew tired of the constant interrogation but felt like a weight was off his chest finally being able to be open about your relationship, though he’d never let the team hear the pet names you call him in private, nor would he let them in on the more tender moments of your time spent together.
The team always telling him that he was nicer when you visited or called him, always nagging to see pictures of the two of you (there were barely any, maybe one where he didn't have his mask on but it was kept secure in the house), and wanting to know when you'd visit.
Ghost was relieved that the team was so nice to you, he'd kill them for even saying a bad word, but he wasn't surprised given your ability to get along with almost everyone, always stopping to say good morning to people on the streets.
They teased him for days after you dropped him off some lunch one time, he had acted angry but he loved the domesticity of your lives, he loved seeing you in his office, a bright figure in such a beige world, he couldn't help the smile that crept on his face at the mere thought of you.
So the two of you welcomed the team into your lives, enjoying the company after living rather solitary. Spilling secrets with Soap and Gaz as Price and Simon looked on, Price with a small smirk on his face, happy that Simon finally found the love he deserved, while Simon sat unamused at Soap's jokes.
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oxymorayuri · 1 month
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❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝
ShortFic
here the overview. ♡♡♡
✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: cussing/language, use of alcohol, mature content ✦ Spoiler: none
wordcount: 6328
It annoys you that you're starting to develop feelings for Ace. Unlike you, he's just unreliable, messy and has no brains. Sure he's hot as the sun but how can a woman like you be into a guy like him?
! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !
ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Xuan
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"Hey gorgeous, watcha doing?" With his stupid big grin, he steals the sun you were enjoying a moment ago. You exhale a little annoyed but don't look up from your book. You calmly flip the page.
"Isn't it obvious?" It comes from your lips. You sound rather bored by his unnecessary question, but it's impossible to ignore the displeased undertone.
"Mmm bitey as always…" Any other man would be offended, would insult you and leave but Ace finds it quite amusing. He finds it rather fun that you're not throwing yourself at his feet.
Your eyes remain on the words in your book. You won't grant Ace the satisfaction of giving him a single glance. You would only be forced to look at his sly smile and his splendid torso. Gross.
"Okay, let me see what you're reading?" Ace's hand reaches for your book and now he is the one flipping through it. You are a little perplexed, your hands still in the air as if you had the book in your hands, but the confusion quickly fades and you stand up, annoyed.
You want to take the book away from him but all your efforts are in vain because he skillfully keeps you at a distance. You accept your defeat and cross your arms in front of your barely dressed chest.
You just wanted to sunbathe a little before you drop anchor ashore, but Ace has to annoy you again.
Your eyes rest on his utterly beautiful lips. You despise yourself for your thoughts while he reads a few lines from your book, but you listen to him intently and after each sentence you have to laugh a little at his comments even though you roll your eyes. He looks pretty hot as he tries to analyze your book... with a strained expression, he thinks about those things he read.
"…That's why Cunt describes the awakening, or rather: the awakening, of reason as a second birth…." he quietly mumbles the rest to himself "…a beginner who is able to begin for himself….????" He frowns very hard and gestures at the book.
"Who the hell understands that!" You put one hand on your hip and snatch the book from him, with a puff of annoyance.
"First of all, I understand it and secondly, it's pronounced Kant and not Cunt!" - "Yea sounds the same…"
He seems confused but doesn't quite understand that he has just named one of your favorite philosophers a cunt. You roll your eyes again, you've done that so many times now, that you should be getting dizzy.
Arrogantly, you walk past him and toss your hair over your shoulder. Ace's confusion quickly fades as he inhales your sweet, floral scent, which has a pinch of salt from the fresh ocean breeze.
"I'll soften you up, y/n." He calls after you and without you turning to face him, you flash him your middle finger.
Once in the kitchen, you made yourself a drink to calm your nerves. You know that you're a pretty deep woman, but you've experienced several times that men aren't interested in woman like you.
As soon as someone realizes how smart or intellectual you are, they simply turn their back on you. You are sick and tired of people only liking you for your appearance but not your inner self. Why is that? Is it too exhausting for them? Are they too stupid?
You exhale in frustration and throw a straw into your drink. This is the very reason why you are not happy, that you like Ace. He's not exactly the brightest candle on the cake, but he has that special spark, that makes you want to keep your eyes on him. What if he just wants to get his hands on you and then throws you away like the others?
"You're groaning a lot again, little lass…" You flinch as if lightning struck you and you slowly turn around, only to see Marco drinking his coffee and browsing through the newspaper without looking at you.
"Gosh Marco… Tell me you're here, jeez!" You put your hand on your chest while leaning against a wooden plank.
The man looks up at you from his newspaper with an raised eyebrow.
"I was here first." He rustles the paper briefly to get it back into shape and turns his attention back to the latest headlines.
"Besides, how can you be so blind and not notice me? It's not like I'm hiding here…" Mumbles the commander of the first division. You stop as you sip your drink.
He's right. He's obviously sitting at the table. You should have seen him when you came in, but you seem to be too absorbed in your own thoughts.
"Whatever, sorry."
You wave him off as you walk back out the door.
The sun greets you directly and you notice that the deck is a little busier. Apparently we'll be docking ashore soon. You're walking across the deck towards the railing when someone calls out to you.
"Hey y/n you should start getting ready, we'll be in Mocktown in 10 minutes." Says Jozu, who is hauling in the sail with a few shipmen.
"Thanks boss!" You call out to your commander.
You could already see it in the distance, the island of Jaya. You quickly made your way to your private cabin. Of course you don't want to go ashore completely in a bikini, even if the weather is good, but Mocktown is still a criminal city and you have no desire to be seen as a cheap prostitute.
You quickly put on a short pleated skirt, attach your gun holster to your thigh and for a moment you think about whether you should just leave your bikini on or put on a shirt. You shrug your shoulders and think to yourself, why not?
Even if some idiots whistle after you, you'll always be at the safest place in the world with your crew members. After all, you're one of the Whitebeard pirates.
Just before you were about to go ashore with Whitey, you stop on your heels.
You watch as Ace is already on land, in the company of a few lightly dressed girls. You can see how much he enjoys being wooed by the beautiful women. He's such a show off. You think to yourself as you roll your eyes.
"Well well, where are your eyes going again, sweetie." It wasn't a question... Whitey knows exactly who you're watching as she stands next to you at the railing. She rests one elbow on the railing and puts her chin in one hand.
"Just look at him… The way he flaunts himself in front of those chicks and acts like a clown... bleurgh..." Not in a million years would you admit that the show Ace gives these women is fucking dope. He plays with his devil fruit power like a fire eater, juggling fireballs, surrounding himself with flames and giving the ladies a little show.
It clearly annoys you and somehow you don't like it, that the ladies are allowed to admire Ace so obviously.
You don't think twice and start to act. You point one finger in Ace's direction and move your index finger in small circular movements.
Behind Ace, who is still playing with his fire, the water on the shore rises without anyone noticing. When the water is high enough, you pull your finger slightly to the right and all the water falls on Ace and extinguishes him.
Steam rises from Ace as he stands in front of the women, drenched in water. He tries to shake some of the water off him, which makes you laugh.
You quickly leave the ship with your friend and together you go to your troop of the third division.
Whitey hooks her arm into yours and comes a little closer to your ear so no one can hear her words.
"You jealous, beastly bitch…" You give her a humming laugh. You may be jealous, but what does it matter? That crush will soon fade away anyway.
While you and Whitey ran a few errands for the whole crew, Jozu waited for you and watched who went in and out of the store. Two beautiful women like you need to be protected in a shady place like this. It's not that you're weak, it's more like a rule.
You came out of the store with a lot of bags. Jozu's eyes widened as he looked over the bulging shopping bags.
"What have you bought again? Do we really need all this?" He questioned but also grabbed all the purchases to carry them for you.
You look up at the tall man with a raised eyebrow.
"Well listen Jozu. You're lucky we do this shopping, if we didn't, we could wipe our asses with meat because food is all YOU think about!" You boldly point your finger at your commander, who shrinks back a little with beads of sweat on his face.
A nervous laugh escapes his lips and he apologizes quietly.
"Save it boss. At least we can decide what quality the paper is. The last person who was responsible for this basically bought sandpaper!" You complain with your arms crossed as you walk down the street. The commander and Whitey laugh at your little tantrum, but your walk is suddenly interrupted when a small child falls in front of you and different items fall from his arms.
Bread and fruit rolled across the ground and to your feet. The boy hastily jumped up and picked up the food. You didn't hesitate and went straight to the ground to help the child. You immediately notice how anxiously the child looks around and seems to want to get away very quickly.
"Hey are you okay kiddo?" You ask carefully with so much care in your voice, which is rarely heard from you. You are known for being quick and merciless, but with children you become a big sis.
The boy, no more than 8 years old, looked up at you with fear in his eyes when he saw the Jolly Roger on your skirt. Again he dropped his food, fell to the ground and frantically scrambled backwards. Meanwhile, you can hear an angry mob in the distance. You suspect the boy has stolen the food by the look of him.
No shoes, torn clothes and a dirty face. The sight makes you sad; it reminds you of yourself. You were just like him before Whitebeard took you in.
You stand protectively in front of the boy and Jozu and Whitey also stand around the boy so that he is protected from all sides.
You keep your hand ready to draw your revolver in case of need. The angry people shout and demand that you hand the boy over, but you're definitely not going to do that. The little boy didn't even steal much and from the looks of it, the food seemed more like scraps that the stores threw in the trash.
You click your tongue. You can't believe they get so angry when it's just a few pathetic scraps. You lose your patience and in the blink of an eye you've already shot all the angry people in front of their feet. The people were visibly frightened by your speed and people around you started whispering.
"Oh my god it's the Whitebeard pirates!" - "Look! Jozu, the commander of the third devision…" - "And isn't that the right hand; the Revolver?"
By Revolver, they mean you. That's your nickname, but only for the rest of the world. In fact, you have to thank the Marines for that cool nickname. They didn't know your real name because you were just a teenager living on the street, you were born without a name.
Back then you were already pretty good with a revolver, it helped you keep yourself afloat but it was a dirty life. You quickly became known to the Marines and had your own wanted poster with the name 'Revolver'.
Then one day you came across Whitebeard and you set your mind on robbing him... You knew who he was but you were ignorant and thought you were faster than him but you were definitely no match for Whitebeard... You could count yourself lucky because he saw potential in you and asked you to join his crew.
Whitebeard was also the one who gave you your name and since then you see it as your duty to make him proud as a daughter.
You suddenly heard a man's voice calling from above and your gaze went up to the roofs.
"Hey, what's with all the ruckus?" The sun blinds you a little and with squinted eyes you could make out Ace's silhouette. Ace landed in front of you with a wave of fire and the people froze, no longer looking angry but more like they were shitting their pants. One of them took to his legs in his hands and screamed as he ran away.
"Nope, the commander and the revolver are already a big deal, but you can't survive Ace's devastating fire!" Ace just laughed like a fool and held his stomach as he watched the wimps make a run for their lives.
Your attention was on the boy who threw himself crying into your arms. You stroked his head and Jozu and Whitey picked up the food again.
"Hm, unfortunately the food is already pretty dirty… you can't eat that." Whitey whispered to Jozu.
When you notice a shadow above you, you look up at Ace, who was looking at the boy with a serious face. The look surprised you quite a bit, There is no trace of his usually playful expression that Ace always has.
He crouches down to you two and reaches into his pocket to pull out a bag.
"Hey little guy, do you live alone?" The little boy sniffled heavily before answering him.
"No, I live with my mother and two brothers..." - "Heyyyy, I have two brothers too!" The boy turned around. The fact that Ace was talking to him seemed to calm him down a little. No wonder, Ace had once again made a unique appearance and looked like a cool superhero. You watch Ace interact with the boy.
"Really?" - "Yeah, I'm the oldest of the three of us!" The boy wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes.
"I'm also the oldest of us…" - "Yeah, that's what I thought… You just wanted to look after your family, didn't you?" Ace said as he looked at the food. The tears rolled down his dirty cheeks again as the boy nodded in agreement.
"You know what? This should be enough for now... buy plenty of food with it and make sure no one catches you with that much money!" Ace placed a sack full of money in the boy's hand. The weight caused the boy's slender hand to drop a little and his eyes widened with tears.
"Are you serious?" Ace just smiled at him with a nod and patted him on the head. He straightened up again and your eyes went up to him, mesmerized by his kindness. He gave him quite a lot of money and once again you found another reason to like Ace. The way he treated the child warms your heart, but inside you curse yourself...
When you arrived at the pub, you took a seat in a corner, where a few others from your division were already sitting and the waiters brought you your drinks.
Ace, on the other hand, begged and pleaded with the owner of the bar to let him pay later, but the owner knows the area and doesn't trust anyone to pay their debts.
You could no longer stand to watch your second commander beg a measly bartender and with an annoyed groan you made your way over to Ace.
"What do you want Ace." You say coolly, not even looking at him. Ace quickly realizes what you're up to and his sad face turns to joy.
"Food and booze!" He puts his hands together as if worshipping you. You somehow like that he makes himself small and a tiny smile appears on your face.
"Let the man order what he wants, I'll pay for it." - "Awww y/n, you got something good with me!" You raise an eyebrow as you look into his wide grin. He's pretty close to you and you draw in your breath inaudibly as your heart threatens to explode but you don't let it show on the outside.
Before your face turns completely red, you turn around and go back to your seat.
How you missed just sitting in one of those shabby pubs, laughing with your comrades while prying ears tried to listen to the stories you could tell.
But today it's all about fun and relaxing, so there's nothing important for the shady characters around to catch. Anyway, you wouldn't be stupid enough to discuss important things in public. Maybe their eyes are only on you because they are curious or even tense.
With every sip of your drink, the desire to mess with one of the dark figures increases. You're in the mood for a bar fight, because the last few weeks have been pretty quiet.
You were undercover in Alabasta for a long time and two weeks ago your crew picked you up again. You're glad to be out of there. All that sand and the dry air has damaged your skin and you've really missed life on the Moby Dick.
You realized that a lot had changed during your absence, because suddenly there was a new commander. The commander of the second division to be precise. Jozu had informed you about the latest events from time to time, but you hadn't expected Ace.
"Hey doll, I've never seen you here before…" A halfway attractive guy blabbered at you from the side while swaying and leaning onto your table.
Your eyes shift to the side without moving your head. That guy reeks of alcohol... Brave of him to talk to you, but maybe this could be the entertainment you've been looking for?
Your lips are curled in to a malicious smile. You look up at him with your dreamy eyes.
"What's up, big boy?" you wink at him in a seductive voice. You can probably get a few drinks out of him while thinking about how much money you've already spent, since Ace drinks like a hangover is just a rumor... If the drunk refuses, you can always blow a bullet through his head and be done with him.
It was easier than you thought to wrap the rascal around your fingers and he bought not only you a drink but also the others! You almost felt sorry for him when you pulled his wallet out of his coat but well… you're a thief and a pirate. It's his own fault because he couldn't take his eyes off you. It was just too easy.
"Ohhh y/n that was really nasty again. The poor guy really thought you fancied him."
You answer your commander with a little dirty laugh. Unconcerned, you shrug your shoulders and sip your newly snatched drink, paid with the money you stole from the guy whose name you don't even remember.
"'Aww come on… it's funny. The 'poor' guy, as you call him, will arrive at the hotel, go to the room and meet whoever the hell is there!" you laugh diabolically until tears gather in your eyes. You're not the only one laughing… the others are laughing too and even Jozu has to admit to himself that it's hilarious.
You've done this a couple of times and every time you've proved how dick driven guys can be...
You really played with that guy's mind when you flirted with him. Little random touches and your laughter sounded so sincere as he told his stories... But in the end, guys usually want more than just to sit in a pub with you, so you always come up with something new.
On the way to the pub you saw a hostel… So you wrote down that exact hostel and a room number on a piece of paper. You told him that you would meet him there later at 8 pm because you still wanted to have some fun with your crew and the idiot believed you.
Whitey started to laugh, she seemed to be imagining the whole thing.
"I wonder who he'll run into in that room?" You all burst out laughing. Too bad you won't find out.
The evening went pretty well and you have to admit that Ace is a pretty cool guy. He was one of the few who raised the mood and you kept catching each other sneaking glances.
The table gradually emptied until only Jozu, Whitey, Ace and you were left. Jozu told you the story how Ace wanted to kill Whitebeard at the beginning. The stories made you laugh like crazy. You were already stupid, but killing Whitebeard? That's crazy.
You caught Ace blushing a little and scratching his head in shame while Jozu was talking, but he let Jozu talk about his stupid actions. Because of his sweet expressions, your laughter slowly died down as you looked up at him. Over time, your seats had changed so that you were sitting between Whitey and Ace and you press your elbow into his side.
"Oh don't make such a face Ace. I think that makes you really likeable!" Like the buddy you are, you raise your drink to him and symbolize that you want to clink glasses with him.
Ace froze for a moment because of you. He wasn't used to you beeing like this but he actually likes this side of you. He returns your grin and clinks glasses with you.
Usually you're not that bitchy. You get along with everyone. Ace is the only one you were so distant with from the start, and not just because he swept you off your feet. It sounds shallow, but from the first moment you saw him, you felt a spark inside you. A slight tickle in your chest.
The real reason for your cold manner is rather because he was given the position of commander of the second division. You worked really hard for the position and were one of the few candidates, but suddenly he comes along aaaand gets the job. You didn't even know that Ace was the one when he stood in front of you. It was only later that Jozu told you that he was the one who got the job and the spark in you shattered like a mirror.
But you have to admit that Ace is still doing a good job. He's actually pretty strong. You remember how some wannabe pirates tried to attack you, but Ace quickly wiped them out by setting their ship on fire. It was kind of beautiful… this burning ship in the middle of the ocean…
"Hey girl what are you thinking about?" Whitey nudges you while you're lost in thoughts holding your chin in your hand.
"Ace…" you babble, responding directly to her question but in a rather absent manner. All of you react immediately to your answer…
Whitey looks at you with a raised eyebrow while Ace freezes as he drinks. You quickly realize that you've somehow admitted that you were thinking about Ace. Oh dear, you probably had a little too much to drink… You straighten up and clear your throat.
"…Ace… tell me… where are you from?" You try to rock the boat, even though you think it's in vain, but luckily for you, the dark haired man answers you and joins in ignoring what you just said. The mood is a little awkward, but from the outside you don't allow to show any signs of embarrassment… On the inside, however, you're ripping the hair from your head in humiliation.
"Oh dear, look at the clock, it's almost 8pm… I think I'd better get back to the Moby before that guy comes back after he finds out I'm not staying at that hostel." A little slyly, you laugh into your hand as you stand up.
"I should go with you…" Ace gets right up and wants to follow you "…you know, in case you run into him and need some firepower." You look back over your shoulder at him and grin as he forms a finger gun with his hand and shoots little balls of fire.
"Do what you gotta do Firefist…" You voiced his name a little sexier than you intended, but you're so drunk right now that you don't give a fuck.
As you walked side by side through the dark alleys, you had the feeling that you didn't want the evening to end. You are alone with Ace. No one would tease you for it, seeing how well you get along with him all of a sudden…
"Hey Ace… Wanna go flick some rocks on the waterside?" He looks at you a bit surprised, while you continue to look ahead.
"Yeah sure, sounds fun!"
And so it came that the two of you were flicking stones over the water's surface a little away from the city. You made it a competition to see how many times you could bounce the stone on the water and you expected nothing less than Ace to have a good hand.
You watch him as he skillfully swings out from the hip to throw the pebble. His muscles twitched slightly as he released the tension in his body. It's a good thing he runs around without a shirt…
As you both watch the stone splash across the surface, Ace breaks the silence.
"Listen y/n, I know you were supposed to get the commander's spot and I think you would have pretty much rocked the position…" You perk up at his words…
I would have got the position? You've never heard that before. Ace had to grin a little when he saw your questioning face.
"Yes, Edward told me that he wanted to leave the second division to you… But in the end he decided against it." You both took a seat on the beach and you looked thoughtfully at the open sea.
What made him choose Ace as commander and not me? What does he have, that I don't?
Ace finally gets a chance to look at your face in peace. You look so harmless and gentle as you gaze out to the sea. Your eyes literally shine due to the moon's reflection in the water.
"Do you want to know why?" You turn your head and look directly into his black eyes.
"Sure…" you answer a little absently as you look repeatedly at his lips. Ace leaned back, propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at the starry sky.
"He told me a lot about you, how he took you in and how he views you. He treats us all like his children, but he once said to me that if he had a daughter, she would definitely be like you…" You pull your legs towards you and hide your smile. You know he treats you a little differently from the others, that's definitely no secret.
Even though you were thirteen when he took you in, he was the parent you've always longed for. He raised you and taught you your values. He has a great influence on you…
Even though these words flatter you, they don't satisfy you. You lean back and cross your arms behind your head.
"Well, if I mean that much to him, he should name me commander of the first division!" You say cheekily, but more in a funny way. Ace bursts out laughing and lies on his side to look at you.
"I don't know why either… I think you're super strong…" His praise is like music to your ears and it makes you even happier that he doesn't stop.
"I've heard the name Revolver a few times, but your wanted poster didn't reveal much about your appearance… There were stories told around the taverns… about the legendary Revolver shooting faster than his shadow and being quick as lightning." You start to laugh.
"Sounds like a cowboy." Ace looks down at himself, smirking, and you stop laughing when you notice him taking off his hat.
"The only thing missing is the hat…" he whispers to you as he puts his hat on your head. For a moment, you find yourselves trapped in the endless silence. You have already blocked out the sound of the waves and the only thing you can hear is Ace's breathing.
You think you've never looked into someone's eyes for so long before and if you're honest, you don't intend to look away. You catch your breath as Ace brushes a strand of hair out of your face and as a response to his warmth, you slightly open your mouth.
"The first time I saw you on the Moby Dick, talking to Whitebeard, I knew you were the special daughter, but I would never have guessed you were also the Revolver." - "Ah yes?" You ask him a little provocatively, meanwhile you've also rolled onto your side so that you're both facing each other with your upper bodies.
Ace is giving you a hard time, as he absently goes with his teeth over his lips, while looking down to gather his words.
"I actually thought the legendary Revolver was a guy who could be a good mate." His eyes glance past you as he grins a little sheepishly.
"Oh are you disappointed that I'm not a guy?" - "Quite the opposite…" He carefully moves his hand over the sand until he touches your fingers like it's just pure coincidence. You don't quite react to his touch, you're more interested in what he says next.
"You're also not from bad parents, Firefist…" The heated atmosphere between you is hard to ignore. Ace finally dares to lean down towards you and you can already see what's coming. You place a finger on his lips and gently press him back.
"But I don't have time for playing games with boys…" Your words escape your lips in a whisper as you search his eyes for a reaction.
"I'm not a boy y/n, I'm a man." He couldn't have said it better. His words trigger feelings in you that you desperately want to explore and lightly you support yourself to rest your lips on his.
The kiss is so gentle and innocent, as if your lips have to get used to the incredible feeling. The fire that Ace ignites in you is a thousand times stronger than anything you've ever felt before and yet your lips barely touched.
Your chest expands with excitement as Ace increases the pressure on your lips and grabs the back of your neck with one hand. You lean back slightly and enjoy the feeling of his hold.
"Ace?" You break the kiss and speak softly against his lips.
"I don't want to share a man. I want you all to myself, you understand?" You know that Ace is a womanizer and you have the feeling that he could break your heart… no matter how much you enjoy this… you're still crew members.
"I'd be crazy if I didn't take Whitebeard's favorite seriously…" Ace's words on your lips make everything in your stomach twist and somewhat out of control, you lean against him. You want to feel his fire.
You don't hesitate for long and your lips quickly meet again. This time neither of you takes the time because this rising feeling is so strong that you both have to let it out.
Ace's other hand wanders along your side while still holding the back of your neck. The tingling sensation gathers directly in your lower middle and you throw your arms around his neck, causing Ace to fall backwards a little. Eagerly, you explore his upper body with your fine fingers and go up and down his muscular frame.
While Ace gains access into your mouth, he pulls you by your arm onto his lap so that you sit on him without your lips parting once.
You begin to feel like you're craving another body for the very first time and slightly out of breath, you pull away from his lips.
You look down at Ace as he stares up at you with hungry eyes. His gaze is already so fucking hot and you long for more reactions in his face.
Your hand goes lightly to your back to undo the bow of your bikini but Ace stops you.
"Let me touch you y/n…" His voice is deeper than usual and there's something so playful about it that you can't help but surrender to him completely.
Ace's hands wander along your side until his hands are on your breasts. You've been used to the cool air for a long time, but it's Ace's hands that gives you goose bumps as they brush against your bare skin. Your nipples harden as Ace brushes your bikini top aside.
For a moment, he enjoys your womanly curves and the way the moon glistens on your skin.
"You're so fucking hot…" Ace suddenly comes up to you and pulls you into an intense French kiss. You rest your hands on his shoulders and moan slightly as he places skillful kisses on your neck. His hands rest on your hips only to push you back and forth on his lap with circular movements to relieve his arousal.
Ace knows exactly the right moves to get you going and caresses one of your nipples with his tongue while lightly pinching and pulling the other.
These overwhelming sensations make you laugh like a dirty whore as you start to move your hips to feel his erection against your wet panties. You are happier than ever that you are wearing a skirt today. But you don't want to have a dry fuck as you are far too wet for that. You want to feel Ace's dick sliding inside you…
You push Ace backwards and force him to lie down while you undo the belt of Ace's pants with your free hand.
"So we're about to get down to business, huh?" he grins dirtily at you as he crosses his arms behind his head. You run your tongue over your teeth and return his grin.
"We'll have plenty of time to explore each other thoroughly, darling." You wink at him and his breathing quickens a little as you grab his member to get it out of his pants.
Fascinated, you run your hand up and down his shaft, causing the otherwise ruthless man beneath you to whimper in relief. His cock gets a little firmer as your hand touches it, to which your cunt reacts in equal measure.
You lift yourself up a little, pull your slip to the side and place Ace's already hard cock in front of your entrance. As the tip of his cock touched your soft folds, a shiver ran down your spine and you slowly let its entire length disappear inside of you. As he filled you completely, Ace moaned in a deep, satisfied voice.
"That's never felt so good as it does now y/n…" His broken voice sends the next shiver down your spine and the growl in his voice runs through you.
At first you wanted to move slowly to get used to the filling sensation of his glory but Ace had other plans...
He bent his legs and started thrusting into you, sending you into bliss over and over again.
You're really glad that you're far away from anyone because you can fully indulge in the sensation and moan to your heart's content.
You have no idea how long this up and down has been going on, but you have the feeling that hours as well as just seconds could have passed.
You lean down to him to taste his lips on yours, but you pull away again because you enjoy it more when you straighten your back as Ace fills you up completely. You don't even think about stopping riding Ace and when you see his hat you somehow have the urge to put it on.
With some effort you reach for Ace's hat which was lying in the sand and put it on while you enjoy riding him to the fullest. The sight of you topless, in just your skirt and his hat, is enough to drive Ace crazy. He can barely contain his voice and moans like he's never done before.
"Mhhm yeah, ride me, cowgirl." His voice a little hoarse and dangerous.
That's probably the second nickname you really like.
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Oh Ace.... ♡
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
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oh, that's why
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is showing up when someone doesn't ask'
rated t | 1,533 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, realizing feelings, love confessions, fade to black
💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
Eddie was nervous.
He hadn't bothered mentioning Corroded Coffin's first show back to anyone except Wayne, didn't want anyone he knew to see him stumble over chords and lyrics with nerves he'd never had before Vecna. The guys didn't really say anything, but they'd casually suggested some slower songs mixed in to give him a break during the set. They just seemed to know that he didn't have the stamina anymore.
It's not like the Hideout was Madison Square Garden, but news had spread amongst the locals about Eddie's return to the stage and people must have gotten curious. The bar was busier than Eddie'd ever seen it, people lined up against the tiny stage and filling the tables spread out around the room. Every stool at the bar was filled, the door constantly opening to welcome someone new with a chilly breeze from the fall air.
"Hey, man. You ready?" Gareth's hand on his shoulder was meant to be comforting, but all it did was remind him of how much everyone in the crowd probably wanted to watch him fail.
"Yep," Eddie breathed out.
It was fine. This would just be another show, maybe not the best they've ever had, but they did fine during practice. He was fine.
There was no announcement for them, there never was. The bar owner and the main bartender pretty much only invited them back because the regulars would order double the amount of drinks when they performed.
The lights were already dimmed in the bar, and the spotlight stayed on on the stage all night.
It wasn't anything special, but it still felt like a step towards more.
The crowd was loud, and barely paid them any attention during Jeff's introduction.
They started playing Master of Puppets, a shorter version without the solo since Eddie still struggled getting through it without having a panic attack. It was part of "reclaiming his trauma" or whatever the government appointed therapist told him on his second and final visit.
He took the first minute to really look out at the crowd, passed the obnoxious spotlight.
Most of the people were unrecognizable, dressed a lot like Wayne, but lacked the friendly smile he gave him when he managed to make it to his shows. He saw a few people he knew from his first two senior years hanging by the back, probably trying not to be noticed by him.
And then he saw him.
Steve.
His fingers skipped over the strings, missing a note and then two, though only his band and maybe the bartender would notice.
Steve smiled back at him, mouthed 'lookin' good', and gave him a thumbs up.
How did Steve even know about this? None of the other guys had told him, he begged them not to, made them pinky swear that they wouldn't invite anyone they knew for the first show.
Eddie smiled back at him still, happy that Steve was here, realizing now that a friendly face was the only way he would get through this set. He should have told them all.
Most of the set went surprisingly well, and most of the crowd seemed content to watch and sing along. Only a few people walked out when they realized it was mostly metal music, but he figured they weren't really there for any music at all. Watching the freak was the only entertainment a lot of people had in this town.
Steve was nodding his head, nursing the same beer for the entire hour they were on stage, smiling every time Eddie made eye contact with him. He seemed to be enjoying it, despite his usual refusal to listen to any of Eddie's music.
When they got off the stage, Eddie rushed to Steve, not even bothering to put his guitar back in its case first. Most of the crowd had gone outside or settled around the bar anyway, so his sweetheart would be safe.
"What are you doing here?" Eddie bounced on his toes, adrenaline pumping after a successful show. "I didn't tell anyone about this."
"Wayne mentioned it by accident. He assumed you'd asked me to come," Steve shrugged. He didn't seem hurt about not being invited, thankfully, but Eddie still felt guilt bully its way into his chest.
"Sorry. I just wanted to get the first one done before I had anyone here," Eddie nudged his hand. "But thanks for coming. I'm glad you came."
"I'm glad I did too. I'll always be here if you need me, Eds."
It sounded serious, less like what friends do and more like what love does.
"How do you always know what I need?" Eddie couldn't help asking. "It's like I think I'm fine, but then you're there with a glass of water because I haven't remembered to drink all day. Or like tonight, when I thought I could do it on my own, but played much better because you were here."
"I just know you," Steve smiled.
"Wait," Eddie started thinking back to all the times Steve was there. All the times he would show up at the trailer after work to make dinner, not knowing that Eddie had been feeling lonely. All the times he sat next to him on the couch while he planned out Hellfire campaigns because he needed someone to bounce ideas off of who wouldn't be involved. All the times he had to brave the general public and Steve always managed to find a reason to be right by his side, silently protective. "Wait."
"I'm waiting," Steve said. And was he sounding smug? What was that smile on his face? "How long am I supposed to wait?"
"I didn't ask you to be here."
"That's true. You didn't even tell me you'd be here."
"I never ask you to come over. Or go places with me. Or anything."
"You do sometimes," Steve argued.
"Wait."
Steve's lips pinched together, but a smirk was starting to tease its way onto his face.
"You're here because you want to be. Because you knew I'd be a mess and would actually want someone here even though I didn't tell anyone. Because you're always there when I need someone even when I don't admit I do. Because you care about me."
"Love, actually."
Eddie stopped in his tracks. "What?"
"You said I care about you. Duh, of course I do. But I actually love you."
"Like...the way you love Robin?"
"No. Like the way I thought I loved Nancy. But with you it's more. It's way more, Eds."
Eddie was grateful for the dim lighting and Jeff's sudden appearance by his shoulder.
"Eddie! We fuckin' nailed it! I signed an autograph for a girl who knows my name!" He yelled before he noticed Steve. "Oh, hey Steve. Enjoy the show?"
"You all did great, man. Glad you're back out there," Steve reached out to grab his shoulder, a friendly gesture that Jeff wasn't expecting judging by his face. "Need any help loading up?"
"Uh. No. I was actually gonna let Eddie know Gareth's dad came by to help bring all our stuff home so we don't need his van." Jeff gave them both a knowing look, then smacked Eddie's shoulder and smiled. "See you tomorrow!"
Eddie waved at him, still in shock from everything Steve had said before Jeff interrupted.
"You should probably put her in her case, Eds," Steve gestured to the guitar still slung across his back. "People aren't that careful in a bar."
"Wait."
"You've said that a lot tonight."
"Because I'm having a stroke or something. I'm having a very lucid dream. Or maybe I got too high." Eddie shook his head and pinched his own arm. "You love me."
"That's what I said, yeah."
"And you meant it?"
"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."
Eddie still felt like he might be dreaming, but he decided to lean into it. If Steve loved him, then that meant-
"Wait."
"Oh my God," Steve groaned, but he was smiling. "What now?"
"I love you, too."
"Yeah? You just figure that out?" Steve definitely sounded smug now.
"Yes! I thought I just had this stupid crush on my straight friend. Sorry I didn't realize the way my stomach does cartwheels when you're next to me meant I loved you!"
They both started laughing.
"So, that's why you were staring at me like that at the pool," Steve finally said through his laughter.
"And that's why you asked me to read to you when you had a migraine," Eddie crossed his arms across his chest to avoid doing what he really wanted to do: pull Steve into the most John Hughes-esque first kiss ever.
"We should probably get out of here," Steve said when he recognized Eddie's twitching fingers fighting to not reach out. "Don't think anyone here would like it too much if I made out with you next to the bar."
"Give me two minutes. I'll meet you outside."
Their actual first kiss was just as John Hughes-esque, but it was in the privacy of Eddie's bedroom, and immediately followed by Steve pushing him against his own door and dropping to his knees.
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cookinguptales · 1 year
Note
Can I ask you to do a post about Disney & disability please? You mentioned it and I’d love to know more!
Well, my notifications can't get any messier, so why not?
This post got very, very long because I ended up talking about a lot of the accessibility solutions in detail (and... ranting about how accessibility at Universal was so bad that I got physically injured there) so I'm putting it under a cut for you.
To preface this, I have mobility issues (as well as a lot of food intolerances/allergies) and general chronic illness, my sister is Deaf, and I have friends who regularly attend the park with autistic family members with high support needs. These are the disabilities I have experience with, so while I've heard a bit about others (such as portable descriptive devices for visitors with visual impairments) I can't speak as much about those accommodations.
I have also traveled quite a bit, mostly as a disabled adult. I can work from anywhere and my family enjoys traveling, so I've been very lucky in this regard. I also used to live in central Florida, not too far from Disney, and benefited from their FL resident rates.
So I'm coming at this from a person who has a lot of experience traveling while disabled and a fair amount of experience going to WDW, though I haven't been nearly as often since I moved out of Florida.
(Good fucking riddance.)
So know that I am speaking from experience when I say I have never, without exception, been to a single place half as accessible as Walt Disney World. It is literally the reason my family would go there; it was one of the only places we could all safely go together. One of the only places I've been on earth that even approached their level of thoughtful accommodations is Barcelona, which apparently did significant renovations throughout the city in order to prepare for the 1992 Paralympics.
(Hey, if anyone is reading this from Barcelona: I teared up the first time I used one of your curb cuts in my wheelchair, just so you know.)
Going through those parks in a wheelchair is a breeze, though you will probably have to fight a lot of clueless parents with strollers who are hellbent on using resources intended for wheelchair-users and then glaring at you when you try to use them yourself. Level ground, spacious sidewalks, accessible transportation, well-kept gradual ramps, roomy buildings, lots of accessible restrooms, alternate entrances at many rides for wheelchair users, special wheelchair rows in movie theaters that we're loaded into first, accessible queues in most rides designed or renovated in the last fifteen years, special viewing areas for shows/parades/fireworks so you don't end up staring at able-bodied butts for a half hour...
Like, structurally-speaking, the parks are very easy to get around in if you're a wheelchair user. That was built in and you can see a lot of very mindful design choices. As far as the rides go, most of their rides actually have special cars that you can load into while still in a wheelchair. They're pretty neat. I can transfer, but that means often leaving my wheelchair and/or cane with a cast member during the ride. They are always, without fail, waiting for me on the other side of the ride, no matter how far the exit is from the entrance. I have never once had a problem with this. A cast member will be there to put my assistive devices in my hand before I even have to think about getting up. Guaranteed.
Wheelchair users always used to be able to skip the line, but there was unfortunately a problem with able-bodied people pretending to be disabled to skip lines (because god forbid they not have access to a single thing we have to make our lives livable) so now there's a system where if you cannot wait in a line, they'll basically give you a special time to come back that's equivalent to the length of the line. Which feels fair to me as someone who often cannot be in even an accessible line for extended periods. (I have problems with sunlight, heat, and often need emergency food or restroom.)
More important than all this, though, is the fact that cast members are impeccably well-trained in all of this. Any disabled person can tell you that the most accessible design on earth isn't worth shit if the people working there aren't well-trained. (More on this later, when I take a giant shit on Universal Studios.) But Disney trains their employees, many of whom are disabled themselves, incredibly well.
Every employee will know where the accessible entrances are. Every employee will know the procedure for getting a return time. Every employee will know about first-aid centers, and every employee will know where the quiet areas are for people with sensory issues. Every time you make a reservation for a meal, hotel room, transportation, etc. they will ask for all accessibility needs and they'll be ready for you.
Every waiter you have will be incredibly careful and knowledgeable when it comes to special dietary needs, and chefs will often come out to discuss them with you. They often have specific menus for different dietary needs, and they are scrupulous when it comes to allergens. I have a few intolerances that suck and allergies that could kill me and I have always felt very safe in their hands. This ranges from fancy sit-down restaurants to quick service burger places.
And -- honestly, I have just always been treated with respect. I know that sounds like a low bar, but most people do fail to clear it. Disney has their employees very well-trained on how to interact with disabled guests. People speak directly to me, never to the able-bodied people over my head. They never treat me like I'm a child. They never ask invasive questions or make uncomfortable jokes. They never, ever get impatient with my accessibility needs.
The few times I have misjudged things and have injured myself or gotten extremely ill, they were professional and caring as they provided much-needed first-aid. It's kind of embarrassing to be doted on by a costumed character while you wait for a doctor to come help you sit up again, but also kind of endearing, I'll admit.
They also, in addition to captioning all videos in the park, have some of the best sign language interpreters in the world, bar none. They're very personal and professional, they're easy to reserve, they will always be in a visible place during shows, and they're incredible performers as well as being very technically proficient. In addition to the professional interpreters, many cast members, performers, and characters can sign as well.
In addition to that, and this brings me to my next point, you'll meet a lot of disabled employees throughout the park. In front-facing positions. Deaf employees, employees using mobility aids, etc. They're well-known to hire disabled people and treat them well. This is. Fuck, this is incredibly rare, I say as someone who was never able to find a job in Florida with my health conditions. It's the moral thing to do to hire disabled people, but also -- selfishly, there's something so heartening and normalizing about seeing people who look like you working at the park. I'm happy every single time.
I have a little less personal experience when it comes to accessibility for neurodivergence, despite being neurodivergent myself, but I've been told that Disney is very, very accommodating for people on the spectrum. A lot is done to lessen crowding, waiting, sensory overload, etc. for autistic guests. Cast members are usually super good at this; finding designated quiet areas, helping autistic guests avoid more crowded areas, keeping them out of long lines, making sure they have access to any particular experiences that are special to them, etc.
For folks who need help from their group, whether that's an autistic child who needs to be with a parent or a disabled adult who needs someone to push their wheelchair or anything else, Disney has a rider switch-off model. In other words, if you're there with both of your able-bodied parents, for example, and you need one of them to be with you at all times and you don't want to be on the ride yourself, Disney will allow one person to go on the ride while the other waits for them to finish, then will allow the second person to go on without any additional wait. This makes sure that everyone in the family gets equal access without leaving disabled people alone. (Which... can be a very shitty feeling, I assure you.)
I know that Disney has also pioneered a lot of assistive technology. The accessible rides, obviously, which can be ridiculously cool (like Toy Story Midway Mania has an accessible car with alternative "guns" for people with dexterity limitations so they can play the carnival games as well) but also handheld assistive devices for visually impaired guests, etc. Like they are literally inventing new forms of accessibility technology, which is so cool.
And honestly, I'm always learning about new ways they assist disabled guests. I've stayed in Disney's accessible hotel rooms before (they're very nice!) but I don't like to swim so I've never been in the pools. But even just this week, someone told me that Disney has pool lifts for disabled guests, which I had never even considered. That's so cool.
The best part about accessibility at Disney is that in some ways it's very casual. A lot of their design decisions are so intuitive that you never even notice how accessible the parks are until you go somewhere where that's... not the case.
Like -- just so you don't assume that any of these things are industry standard, let me tell you about the two times I went to Universal, a park very close to Disney. I went there once for an event and once with my family.
The first time I went was for an event at the opening of the Harry Potter park. (This was before JKR made her most appalling views public, to be clear.) It... was frustrating. Guests asked if there would be food and drink available for people with special dietary restrictions (such as sugar-free butterbeer) and were pretty much told that no, that was not something they were interested in pursuing. It became very obvious very quickly that the park itself was so narrow that it only barely fulfilled ADA standards -- when empty. We were told that JKR had actually specifically insisted that it feel "cramped". Which is a nice way to say that I couldn't actually get around in any of the stores while people were in them.
It was overall a frustrating experience, but it was like. One night. I figured it was probably a fluke and they were still ironing out all the details. So I ended up going back with my parents later.
Y'all, it was a shit show.
Broken elevators that prevented disabled guests from accessing rides. Performers being up on raised platforms/sidewalks so disabled guests couldn't get to them. Sidewalks being made inaccessible by putting movable signs directly in the middle of them. Stores (even outside of the HP part) that were so damn narrow that I actually ended up getting hurt trying to navigate one of them. And no -- it was not easy to get first aid.
And my god, was the training bad. We went to one of the new HP rides, asked if there was a specific entrance for disabled guests. We were told no. We waited for a very long time in a line that honestly I shouldn't have been waiting in, but I wanted to be a good sport. I was pretty sick by the time we got through it, and the line itself had some very dangerous inclines/turns for wheelchair users. We get to the front of the line -- and the employee asks why we didn't just use the accessible entrance. 🙃
(Side note: several of their rides are also just unrideable if you don't fit within a pretty narrow body type of thin and able-bodied, so... there's that.)
We'd asked repeatedly and gotten incorrect answers, and I'd been put in physical danger as a result. Wild. I started to notice that if you asked different employees, you'd get different answers about almost anything, really. Just exceptionally poor training. Even stuff that should've been a no-brainer, like loading wheelchair users into a stationary movie theater, ended up creating chaos when they did it incorrectly and we had a giant wheelchair pileup.
Like -- let me stress to you that many of the things that happened could have caused actual injury to people. Some of these situations were dangerous. And some of them were just alienating, like when I'd have to wait outside a store while my family could go in.
I never went back after that. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ We just kept going to Disney.
One thing that'll probably show how good Disney is at accessibility is the whole Make-A-Wish thing. A lot of people know that it's a popular Make-A-Wish request, and you're likely to see at least a couple kids with Make-A-Wish buttons during your visit if you keep an eye out. One reason for this, is that, y'know, Disney World is fun. Kids want to go there. But more important, I think, is that Disney can accommodate people with at-times severe medical needs. Those kids can safely go anywhere and do anything in those parks that able-bodied kids can, and that's important.
All in all, the parks are just so accessible and you will never, ever be made to feel like you're lesser for needing those accommodations. You will be treated so well and you will not have to worry about accessibility because the cast members are always doing it for you. They'll usher you into the correct entrance as soon as they see a mobility device, and they'll do it with a very warm welcome. It's one of the very few places on earth where I have never felt like a burden.
Again, y'know, I know that Disney does not have a perfect track record on a lot of issues. I would never defend them from rightfully earned criticism. I strongly support labor action against them, and I do think they should be criticized whenever they fuck up. I have been uncomfortable with the sheer amount of power they have both in Florida and in the entertainment world just because no one should have that much power. But I am far more uncomfortable with that power being stripped away for blatantly discriminatory political reasons.
I do have some loyalty to Disney just because there is no other place on earth where I've been able to safely have fun with my friends with so little agony. That's... I mean, it's important, really. To be able to just exist in public without getting grief for it. And I have some loyalty to them because they were a safe space for me as a young, queer kid who was not safe being out in other areas of my life.
(Like, I am talking about actual literal safety. I kept seeing notes on my post saying that Disney didn't care about creating a "safe space for queer people" but as someone who lived in Florida for the entirety of my teenage years? It was the safest goddamn place there.)
I do not have enough loyalty to defend them when they do immoral bullshit, but I do have enough to make sure that people know the good that they do as well.
I want other businesses to follow Disney's model for disability. I will praise them forever for what they've done in that regard because if I don't, there's no reason for other companies to follow suit. I want to praise them for the good things they've done so they have incentive to keep doing it, and other companies have an incentive to do it as well.
Like bro, I just wanna be able to move around and be treated with some dignity, y'know? My bar is so low. lmao
But yeah. That's why you always see so many disabled guests at Disney. It's literally the only place some of us can go to have fun.
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ihadlife · 9 days
Text
Achilles' Heel
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pairing: (aged up) pro hero!Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader
word count: 10.2k
synopsis: You and Bakugo aren't dating, so you can't be really mad when he's toying with you. What you can be, though, is miserable. Especially when you get laid off from work. And to whose else's arms can you run into other than the person who's hurting you the most. 
tags: 18+, adult content, fem!reader, fem gendered pronouns and pet names, angst, so much fucking angst, baby trapping, unprotected sex, dumbification, masturbation, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talking, oral sex (male and female receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, impact play, unrequited love, reader and other people smoke, reader has crippling mommy issues and self-isolates, the worst possible decisions ever made at all times, toxicity contest between reader and Bakugo i guess
an: crossposted on ao3. reader makes decisions so bad i wanted to smack her head against concrete all the time. if you're reading this for the smut i suggest you skip this one, it's not centered around it. it was pain in the ass to write bakugo’s direct speech but if it doesn’t make sense from an accent standpoint i’m begging you let me know and i’ll adjust it. and as always, english is my second language so if you spot any mistakes or even typos pls let me know.
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“I get that he was like… busy, and probably exhausted after, but he could’ve sent me a message at least, you know?” 
“Yeah, I’ve been telling you he’s a dick.” 
Your best friend inhaled the cold autumn air through the tobacco and filter in their cigarette, filling their lungs with smoke before exhaling it, letting it mix with the breeze. 
“He’s not a dick… there’s just a lot on his plate.” You tried defending him, but even to your own ears, the words that had left your mouth sounded pathetic and feeble. “God knows how I would’ve acted if I had his job.” 
You were looking down at your own hands, playing with the handle of the mug that was now empty, the coffee in it long gone. You didn’t even have to look up to know that your friend was giving you a dirty look. 
To be fair, they weren't completely wrong. You still couldn’t get behind their words – a dick – but you more or less agreed with their general idea: he wasn’t treating you right and you deserved better. 
Knowing and realising all that, you still couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it. 
“You would’ve been honest and communicated.” They took another drag through their cigarette. “And he should be too. If he wants to keep a relationship.” 
The truth was, he had a demanding job. Being a pro hero and saving people’s lives almost every single day was taxing. Not only physically, but also mentally. You understood that. You had let him know that you understood. 
Still, as your friend said, and even as your own head was telling you, wanting him to communicate his needs and intentions beforehand was the bare minimum. Not even letting a problem arise and preventing it. Because he should have cared. 
The thing that hurt you the most was that it hadn’t always been like that. 
At the start, when you two met, he was attentive. Funny. Kind. Charming. You were sure he was still the same person, only not towards you. Not anymore, at least.
You entertained your friend and they tried to distract you from your own thoughts for about another hour before you both got up and went separate ways, counting on seeing each other sometime in the next two weeks again. Not that any of you could make it longer without seeing each other. 
You decided to take the longer walk home, hop to a small market on your way and buy some necessities you needed. Maybe pick up something small to treat yourself. 
Your heels were clapping on the sidewalk loudly, your tempo moderate. Your feet hurt after spending the entire day in your heels and once again you cursed yourself for choosing this type of footwear when you had known you would have to spend an entire day in them. There was a huge blister forming on your right Achilles, you were sure. 
You fished your phone from your purse without even thinking about it, your thumbs moving on the screen as if they’d had a mind of their own. Or maybe it was a muscle memory at this point. 
You opened the messages app on your phone and stared at the screen. Maybe hoping that if you stared long and hard enough, you would somehow manifest his response. Or maybe he would even open and read the message instead of leaving you on delivered. 
I’m sorry to hear that! You really should take a few days off, you deserve it :( 
Pathetic. 
Scoffing at yourself you put your phone back into your purse and entered the small market. After greeting the lady who owned the shop you grabbed a basket and started browsing the isles. 
You liked this market. The owner was aloof, she never asked you personal questions. You had been going here for long enough for the lady to remember you, you were one of the regular customers, yet she treated you like a stranger every time. 
You appreciated that. This kind of curtness. 
You began your usual route around the small store – a route you’d walked so many times you would be able to walk it with a scarf around your eyes without bumping into a single thing. 
You idly strolled through the shop, picking up the stuff you needed. 
Toast bread. 
A premade sandwich with cheese, ham, and cucumber. 
Spam ham. 
Canned fish. 
A few packets of instant ramen. 
Cheap coffee. 
Two single rolls of toilet paper. 
Two bottles of soju. 
Your feet stopped once you were in front of the register. You put the basket on the counter with a tiny smile and waited for the owner to scan the items. 
Your eyes slid from the small woman to the stand next to the register, where the magazines were, all kinds together. The serious ones and the ones that just wrote about celebrity gossip. Living and lifestyle ones. Ones for teenagers. Weekly sudokus and crossword puzzles. 
You weren’t the same scared, shy, uncertain intern as you were a few years ago. You’ve earned your place in the publishing company; you were a proper columnist at that point. So when your boss had assigned you the interview with the pro hero that would be the main feature of the next issue, you had been elated and had readily accepted the task. You had been sure this would help further your career. Maybe help you get a raise. 
As you had soon learned, you might have been a good columnist, but you were still very much naive. You hadn’t gotten a raise. Nor had the feature helped the career. 
What you’ve gotten out of the interview, however, was your phone number in Dynamight’s phone. 
“Thanks for the interview, it was great.” You smiled and closed your laptop right after saving the file. 
“No, ya were great.” 
You laughed a little, bashful, a quiet ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you put your laptop into its case and into your faux leather bag that was resting against the chair you were sitting in. 
“I mean it,” he leaned back in his luxurious office chair, his elbows resting on the arms of the seat. “Most of the interviews I do are real uncomfortable. People love bein’ nosy and invadin’ my  fuckin’ privacy.” 
“You can’t blame them,” you grinned. “Of course, they wanna know everything about one of the most popular heroes.” 
“And ya?” He asked after a slight pause and butted his chin in your direction. 
“Me?” 
“D’ya wanna know everythin’ ‘bout the most popular hero?” 
You didn’t miss the way he changed ‘one of the most popular’ to ‘most popular’. Shameless. 
“Uhm,” you bit your lower lip, not really sure what to answer. 
“Lemme take ya out.”
You couldn’t deny his attractiveness. His cockiness and the roughness around the edges were more alluring than you would like to admit. 
“Okay.” You breathed out and gave him a nervous smile. 
Were you ready to go on a date with a pro hero though? 
“Sorry?” You apologised to the woman when you realised she had said something. 
She repeated the total price to you. 
Oh, right. 
You fumbled with your purse a little and fished out your wallet. 
“Could you please add a bag to that?” 
The woman grabbed one plastic bag from under the counter and put it on top of the things you purchased, not bothering to bag them. 
“Actually… I would also like some cigarettes. And a lighter.” You put your wallet on the counter and started bagging the groceries yourself. 
“What kind?” Was all she said, but you didn’t miss the judgy look she gave you. 
“Gold Marlboro.” 
She turned around to retrieve the cigarette box and basic, plastic lighter in a bright blue colour and handed them to you. 
You finished bagging your stuff quickly, paid for it and with a goodbye exited the market. 
A silent groan left your lips when you felt the rocky cement underneath your feet again, the back of your shoe digging into your Achilles more than before. The blister was going to be a big one. 
The rest of the route to your home was uneventful. Thankfully. Once you opened the front door of the crappy building where you lived, you stood in front of the elevator. 
It was old, unreliable, and just barely held together. This is why you usually took the stairs, but the painful cushion filled with fluid made you reconsider your actions. You looked from the elevator to your feet. It was either the stairs which would abuse your blister even more, or the risky elevator. 
You sighed as you carefully stepped out of the heels. 
“Shit.” 
The blister that formed on your Achilles during the day must have popped and was now bleeding. Your entire heel and the inside of your shoe were stained with red that was slowly turning brown; the edges were crusty and flaking.  
“Great.” 
You bent down to pick up the bloody shoes in your free hand and started walking up the stairs. The stone and occasional tiles of the floor were just a tad too cool on your soles but you didn’t necessarily mind the sensation. It felt nice on your slightly swollen feet after the entire day. 
Once you made it to the seventh floor – your floor – you stopped in front of the door to your apartment, and with a loud bang let the shoes fall from your hand to the floor. The bag with your groceries followed suit and soon you were trying to fish out your keys from your faux leather shoulder bag. 
Your phone started vibrating, set on silent mode. Scrambling to quickly pick it up, you found your phone in record time and checked the caller’s ID, hoping to find a certain hero’s name on the display. 
Your eyebrows furrowed a little when you found out it was your mother calling you. Inhaling deeply and breathing out through your nose, you slid your finger over the screen and put the phone against your ear. 
“Hi, mom!” Your voice was too high-pitched as you greeted her. You leaned your head heavily to the side and squished the phone between your ear and your shoulder to keep your hand empty. 
“Hi, sweetheart.” 
You pulled a face at the pet name. You hated loving it. 
“Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy right now. Is it important?” You slightly fumbled with your bag as you kept trying to find your keys. 
“Oh, no, I just wanted to call and ask how you’re doing,” you could hear the smile in her voice. 
“I’m doing fine! Listen, would it be alright if I call you tomorrow? I’ve got a lot of things I still gotta do today.” You were lying through your teeth. 
It took only a few more seconds of conversation with her, and you both agreed on a call the next day when you ‘have more time’. You tossed the phone in your bag and rummaged through all the things once again before you found your keys in the bottom corner of your bag and unlocked the door. 
 First, you walked into the small and cramped hall of your apartment and put down your purse, then just halfway stepped out of your flat to retrieve your shoes and finally the bag with groceries. 
Eventually, you closed and locked the door behind you, the grocery bag in your arms as you stepped into the apartment that was way too small to even fit a single person. Not even two steps later you were in your living room and bedroom and after three more steps and turning the corner twice you were standing in the ‘kitchen’. ‘Kitchen’ with quotation marks, because the very few cabinets with a sink and without a proper oven could hardly count as a regular kitchen. 
The apartment was horrible. It was in a worse part of town – not necessarily the worst, but bad enough. The prefabricated block of flats was old and in desperate need of renovation; the plaster on the outside of the building was slowly crumbling, the insolation was thinner than the walls between apartments, the pipes were rusty, and you heard that several neighbours of yours from lower levels had complained about mould. 
Most of the people here, except for a few old grandmas and young women around your age, were unfriendly. The neighbours, with whom you shared one of the living room walls, were too loud. 
Oftentimes, there were strange smells, ones you could not identify or describe. Whether they were lingering in the hall of the building or, for some godforsaken reason, in your own flat, they always lasted only a couple of hours. 
During your walks up and down the stairs to get to or from work, you’d meet people who’d make you cross the street if you met them in the city at night. They were mostly younger men with pronounced eyebags and a strut that was either overconfident or not confident enough. 
The only reason you stayed there was because it was cheap and the commute to your work from here was alright. Even with a salary that was too low for the job you did, you were able to afford it and even save a little bit of money on the side for any possible emergencies. 
You set the grocery bag on the counter and went back into the hall to take your probably ruined shoes, bringing them to your minuscule bathroom and setting them on the floor in your shower, deciding on trying to salvage them later. 
On your way back to the living room you took your work bag with you. Opening the window first and letting the cold autumn breeze in, you sat down on the couch and fished around in your bag once again, looking for the cigarettes and lighter that you put separately into your purse. Once you found it, you chucked the bag without any care on the floor and leaned back on the couch, putting your bare feet up on the coffee table. 
You hissed as the raw meat on the back of your heel came into contact with the old glass top of the table that needed some proper cleaning, but ultimately did nothing to alleviate the pain. Instead, you took a single cigarette out of the package and rested it between your lips, inhaling at the same time as your fingers brought the fire from the lighter to life. 
You left the cigarette hung from your mouth, held by your dry lips, and leaned your head back, your hands splayed on the sides of your body. 
The fact was, you were exhausted. 
And you didn’t even have a good reason for it. 
Sure, work sucked. You worked like a dog only to be constantly overlooked and not earn enough. You were lying to your own mother every time you talked, pretending you were much more successful than you actually were, trying to get on her good side and receive any bit of praise. You hated living in your apartment. You were seeing a man who probably didn’t feel the same about you as you did about him. 
The only good thing was your high school friend, always by your side and ready to lend a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. 
Maybe you should go see a therapist. 
You closed your eyes and deeply breathed in the stale air that refused to move even with the window opened through the tobacco and filter. You wondered what Bakugo was doing right now. Maybe he was working on the paperwork in his office, sitting behind the big, wooden table that you’d once seen. Or maybe he was out, patrolling with one of his sidekicks, walking in the streets. Maybe he was covered with fake sweat, flexing his muscles for a shoot for another men's magazine. 
Your mind lingered on the image of that. 
His healthily tanned skin taut over his herculean muscles, the drops of water rolling down and creating a web of moisture, leaving goosebumps behind. 
You pressed your thighs together, putting a small amount of pressure on the nether part of your body. 
You thought back to all the passionate moments you’d spent with the pro hero. Bakugo might have been getting on your nerves lately due to his behaviour but he was an exceptional lover. He was the best you’d ever had, not that you would admit it out loud. That fiery personality of his projected itself well in the bedroom. 
You brought your hand to the cigarette between your lips, took it away from the dry skin and shook off the stack of ash that was growing bigger and bigger at the end of the tobacco. Even though the hot ash landed on the floor covered by very cheap linoleum that was slowly peeling in some corners, you didn’t care. 
“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, princess,” Bakugo was panting above you, the drops of sweat rolling down his forehead, neck, and chest and occasionally landing on your damp skin. 
Your pussy was drooling on his dick, your juices wet on your inner thighs as well as his entire crotch and lower abdomen. He was bullying your body with his cock, repeatedly slamming it in and out of you at a fast pace. 
“Katsuki,” you pleaded. You didn’t even know what you were asking him — to slow down? To change the angle? To fuck you harder? Your brain was a mush at that point and all you could think about was him, him, him. 
“Not my name, sweetheart,” he grinned and slapped the top of your cunt with his hand, successfully hitting your clit. 
You winced and tried to comprehend what he just said to you. Once the words registered, you corrected your mistake. 
“Dyna- Dynamight!” His hero name on your lips was cut in half by your gasp. 
“There we go.” He praised you. He didn’t move his hands from your hips when he angled them more, making your back arch and your pussy more open for him. “Your pussy fits me like a fuckin’ glove.” 
Your head was swimming from all the sensations. Bakugo’s dirty talking, his hot breath hitting your calves while your legs were propped up on his shoulders, the blunt nails on his fingers digging into the skin of your hips, the tip of his dick dragging along your warm walls while he made sure you could feel him for several days to come. 
“Look at ya,” he continued. “My dick feels so good’ya can’t even think, huh? Did I fuck ya dumb, princess?” There was a mocking tone to his voice while he talked. 
In a normal situation, if you were having sex with anybody else, you would’ve been embarrassed. Both about the mocking and also about the fact that he was right. To be fair, none of your exes were able to fuck you good enough to get you into this state. But with Bakugo you couldn’t even manage to form thoughts coherent enough to feel the embarrassment at the moment. 
“Dynamight,” was all you managed to let slip from your lips. 
With the cigarette still between your lips, you unbuttoned your trousers and pushed your dominant hand under the fabric of your panties, the tight cotton sandwiching your fingers between the textile and your cunt. 
You circled your entrance to gather some moisture, your pussy just starting to get wet. With the now slick pad of your finger, you moved it upward, tucking it a little underneath the hood to touch your clit directly. 
Breathing out cigarette smoke from your nostrils, you leaned your head back, resting it against the headrest of your couch. With your eyes closed and a gentle sigh leaving your lips, you started moving the finger in circular motions. 
“That’s right, princess.” 
Your eyes were watering as you tried to swallow around the thickness of his cock in your throat. 
“Fuck yeah, just like that.” His grip on your hair tightened. You were running out of air and fighting your gag reflex when you put your palms on his strong thighs, ready to tap out at the last second in case you needed to. “Choke on my dick.” 
Your nose scrunched up against the neatly trimmed pubes as you gagged hard and you quickly tapped his thigh. Bakugo didn’t release your hair, instead, he tugged your head backwards so you would get him out of your mouth quickly. Your lips were red and swollen, covered in your own spit and as well as his precum, parted as you panted for air. Two tears rolled down both of your cheeks as you looked up at the man standing in front of you. 
“Good girl,” he sadistically grunted through his gritted teeth. “You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t ya?” 
You closed your eyes as he gently, almost affectionately, slapped your cheek a few times. 
“Open,” was all he said as he pushed two fingers into your mouth, reaching so far into your throat it made you gag again. 
You grabbed the butt of the cigarette with your hand that wasn’t down your pants and leaned over to your coffee table to put it out against the glass. Leaving the butt there, you reclined against the couch once again, moving your finger from your clit back to your entrance, adding a second one to cover them both in your wetness and pushing them inside of you, immediately targeting your g-spot. 
“Don’t stop.” 
Bakugo’s hand on your hip helped with guiding your movements, effectively pushing you up and down on his cock as you rode him. You were so close to him your nipples were rubbing against his chest with every motion and you were practically breathing each other’s air. The tip of him was deep inside of you and rubbed against your g-spot each time you moved. Your arms were resting on his shoulders. One hand was leaning your weight against his trapezius and the other one against the god-awfully expensive leather sofa of his which you were probably staining now. 
“Fuck,” he groaned so quietly you were only able to hear him thanks to the proximity. “You’re mine, do you understand?” His other hand, which wasn’t holding your hip but was snaked around your waist and pushing in between your shoulder blades so that you would be close to him, moved upwards and firmly, but not forcefully, squeezed the back of your neck. The gesture only made you feel that much closer to him. You nodded your head as fast as you could, but that was not enough of an answer for him. 
���Say it. Say you’re mine.” 
There was a certain desperation in his voice. Desperation that you heard for the first time with him. 
“I’m yours.” 
The words silently left your lips with a puff of air following suit. Bakugo wasted no time and kissed your lips passionately, seemingly putting all his feelings into it. 
But you knew better. 
“Say it again.” 
“I’m yours.” 
The buzz of your phone vibrating in your bag next to the sofa disrupted you. 
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You let out an angry grunt. 
You debated not picking it up and calling whoever it was that interrupted you later, but decided against it when you felt a considerable amount of guilt in your throat. What if it was important? 
You quickly pulled your hand out of your trousers and wiped your wet fingers on your blouse, leaving shiny, sticky splotches behind. Fumbling with the bag a little, you managed to find your phone just in time, not even looking at the caller ID as you swiped your finger against the screen and put it against your ear. 
“Hey.” 
Your body froze a little at the sound of the unusually cheery voice on the other end. He must have had a pretty good day, judging by his tone. 
“Uh, hi.” 
“Ya busy?” 
You straightened on the sofa and tried to clear your throat as discreetly as possible. 
“No, I was just cooking, sorry.” Lie. 
“Cool. Listen, we haven’t seen each other for a while so I wanted to call ya.” 
“That’s nice of you.” Bare. Fucking. Minimum. 
“Yeah. I can’t really talk now, I’m ‘bout to go grab a few beers with my mates. I’ll call ya later, so we can talk properly, yeah?” 
“Oh, sure.” You turned your head to look at the clock on the wall in your kitchen. It was already nearing eight o’clock, just how late did he mean to call? 
“Alright. I’ll talk to ya later.” 
He ended the call sooner than you could say goodbye. 
Your hand that was holding the phone to your ear fell limply against the couch with the device still between your fingers. You didn’t know if his call made you feel happy or even more pathetic. 
It was good that he called you, right? He obviously wanted to check up on you. And also promised to call you again later. 
So why were you feeling like this? Where did this feeling come from? 
You gulped the saliva that gathered between your teeth and the flesh of your cheek, accidentally swallowing a bit of air as well. 
No, you thought to yourself. He was trying. That was good enough for you. For now. 
You raised your hand with your phone again and unlocked it, opening a food delivery app. You debated between classic pizza and maybe something healthier, but your finger ultimately landed on the pizza picture on your screen, successfully tapping it into the cart. You chose the address for delivery and type of payment and locked your phone.  
Releasing a deep breath, you stood up and with your phone still in your hand walked the few steps to your bed. The pizza was supposed to be delivered in 30-60 minutes. Might as well masturbate properly with your vibrator in the meantime. 
»»————-  ————-«« 
After giving yourself two orgasms, eating the entire pizza and drinking several shots of soju, you fell asleep on your sofa just a few minutes after midnight. Bakugo didn’t call. 
»»————-  ————-««
It was several days later that you heard from him again. This time, he didn’t even bother with calling you; he decided that two texts would suffice. 
hey, sorry for not calling you the other day, i got wasted 
you wanna see each other sometime again? ;) 
‘That’s not a proper apology. Send him to hell.’ your friend replied when you sent them a screenshot of said messages. 
You were sitting behind the desk you were assigned at work, your hands idly resting on the keyboard of your computer, but your eyes were glued to your phone that lay locked next to your cup of coffee. You should send him a reply. 
“Do you have a minute?” 
You jerked in your seat involuntarily, the sudden proximity of the voice effectively scaring you. Your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your face, when you realised you were caught slacking off. 
“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied to your boss, not exactly enthusiastically. 
“Great.” He gave you a fake smile that didn’t reach his eyes and quickly left his lips and tapped the side of your cubicle a few times before he turned around and started walking towards his office, obviously expecting you to follow. 
You cleared your throat and got up from your seat, tugged your pencil skirt down a little and followed him as quickly as you could in the garment that was sexy and elegant, but also restrictive. 
You closed the door once you stepped into the personal office that was separated by glass walls from the rest of the cubicles where you and your colleagues worked. 
“Sit down.” Your boss moved his hand in the general direction of the seat that was positioned in front of his desk. 
The table was made of a grey and white particle board, as well as all the desks you and others worked on. The carpet in his office was originally the same shade of dark blue as the rest of the entire floor, but was less walked on and therefore managed to retain its colour better than the carpet in the rest of the space. 
The window behind his back that you were facing and that he liked to stare out of so often was as bleak as it always is this time of the year. The strange shift between autumn and winter when the weather gets even colder and the days even shorter, when you usually reach for your second-hand wool coat before leaving your apartment. 
“We need to talk.” 
You were fucked. 
»»————-  ————-««
Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you held the phone in your hand. 
When are you free? We need to talk. 
A small part of you wished Bakugo cared about you enough to actually get stressed after reading your message. But the more rational part of you knew that that wasn’t the case. The pro-hero with a super-inflated ego wouldn’t get anxious due to a mildly threatening message from an average journalist who had had his balls in her mouth not so long ago. 
Unemployed journalist. 
You debated calling your mother but ultimately decided against it. You weren’t in the headspace to deal with that kind of phone call. 
You also considered calling your friend. 
You didn’t, though. 
You knew they would pity you. You didn’t want people to pity you. You just needed somebody to listen. And maybe a hug. But none of the people you were in contact with or that were in your life would ever just listen. 
So you were left all alone with all these feelings that felt just too heavy on your chest. A lead that made it hard to breathe, a lead that your muscles had to actively fight against to fill your lungs with much-needed air. A lead that made you drag your feet against the pavement. 
Your phone buzzed in your hand. 
this thursday at 5pm, come to my apartment
You didn’t even open the message to properly read it, your eyes just skimmed over the message in the notification on your lock screen before you stuffed the electronic device in your bag once again. 
Good, you thought for yourself. You had three days to somewhat get your shit together before visiting him. As much as you had feelings for a certain pro-hero, you were not about to let him see you like this. 
Especially not since you were determined to end whatever the weird situationship between the two of you was. 
»»————-  ————-«« 
You rested the back of your head against the cool mirror behind you. The extra thick layer of concealer underneath your eyes to hide the dark circles was slowly creasing even though you’d used enough powder to set it… you could almost feel it. 
The Visine in your eyes to make them appear whiter and not like you cried just this morning felt unnatural – too watery and a tiny bit stingy when you closed your eyes for long enough. 
Your thought process? Don’t let him see your weakness. Don’t look like you actually care about this ‘relationship’. Could you even call it that? Could you call this situationship a relationship when he kept you secret from the public and his friends as well? When all he ever wanted to do with you lately was to fuck you? 
The odd smell of the hairspray that you had used deliberately to keep your hair bouncy was almost palpable in the air, even though you used quite a lot of perfume. Those two smells as well as the lingering stench of a cigarette you smoked earlier combined were almost suffocating you, pressing down on your person, making you feel smaller and smaller. 
The supposedly calming music that was playing in the elevator was paradoxically making you even more nervous. 
The trousers you decided to wear that day made your ass look extra good, but cut into your stomach every time you sat down – a decision you, again, made on purpose. To get it over with quicker. You can’t even really sit down with these on. Plus, obviously, it wouldn’t be bad to remind him what he was going to lose, right? One last look at your ass was all you were going to grant him. 
Saying that you were uncomfortable was an understatement. 
You lost your job just a few days ago. It was clear to you you’d have to consider moving soon; the shitty apartment you lived in was cheap, but not cheap enough to keep while unemployed. And now, on top of your job and an apartment, you were about to lose him. 
Maybe it was a good thing, though. Even though he made you feel like you were on cloud nine in the beginning, showering you with affection and spending most of his free time with you, lately all you’d been getting from whatever was happening between you two was stress and anxiety. Self-doubt. More insecurities. 
Besides, were you really going to lose him? Could a person lose something they’ve never had in the first place? 
Your mind wandered on its own to your favourite memory with him. It was still quite fresh, you could remember it as if it had happened a few days ago, even though in reality it had been weeks. 
Your head resting on Bakugo’s thigh, the sound of the television and the feeling of his fingers playing with your hair inevitably lulling you to sleep. Your belly was comfortably full thanks to the amazing dinner Bakugo had cooked for you. 
“You’re sleepin’.” 
“Am not.” You replied, but you could hear it in your own voice, the tiredness and how you slightly slurred your words, your eyes still closed. His smell and proximity was just making you feel so, so safe.
A sigh left your lips as your hand moved on its own and started rummaging in the small purse that you’d brought with you. The fluorescent light in the elevator did nothing to flatter your appearance, quite the opposite, actually. You found the lip gloss you were wearing that day in the depths of your bag and reapplied it generously. You gave yourself another look in the mirror as you stuffed the small thing back into the bag. 
God, it looked like you’d tried too hard. 
Quickly, with only a few stories left, you tried to card your fingers through your hair to make them messier and ruin your appearance a little. Your hand flew to your lips to wipe off all the gloss you’d just put on as the door of the elevator opened to Bakugo’s floor. 
You hesitantly stepped inside of the apartment and took off your shoes, the elevator door closing behind you. Leaving your coat and scarf on the hanger that was situated in the dead end of the hallway, you then stepped in the other direction to actually get further into the flat. 
Your feet were quiet on the overpriced Persian runner rug, so you called his name to announce your arrival. 
“Hey.” 
You were looking directly at his back as you walked into the more open space and the centre of the floor. With his back to you and broad shoulders covered by a simple oversized black hoodie, he was standing right in front of a kitchen counter, probably mixing something judging by the sound of it. 
“Hi.” You replied, your voice lacking the usual enthusiasm that laced it whenever you were with him. You put your purse on the couch in the living area and walked closer to where Bakugo was standing. 
“Hope you’re hungry.” He said without raising his head or really looking at you. 
When you came close enough, you were actually able to see what he was cooking – tamagoyaki. 
“Not really.” You’d kill for some tamagoyaki at that moment, to be honest. “I'm not planning on staying long, actually.” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your weight against the kitchen counter, resting your hip against it. 
“Hm.” Was all he said. 
You watched as he poured another part of the egg mixture into the pan, helping it spread by tilting the metal and sort of pushing the liquid with chopsticks. 
Bakugo was an amazing chef. You’d asked him about it when you were eating curry rice during one of the occasions that you’d visited his flat and his response was a grunt and cookin’s not that hard. 
“You know why I’m here, right?” You asked. 
You hoped that he would say it first. Yer leavin’ me. You had prayed that he would say it, make it easier for you. Spare you from having to force air over your vocal cords and formulate the sounds with your tongue and lips. 
He didn’t. 
The silence stretched on as he seemingly minded his business, rolling the tamagoyaki into a perfect little roll and adding more egg mixture. 
“I can’t…” You started but cut yourself off. You gave it another thought before you started again. “This has to end.” 
Bakugo didn’t move a single muscle to indicate any sort of reaction he might’ve had. You watched him finally move as he took two bowls out of his kitchen cabinet and nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen aisle. 
“Siddown, food’s almost ready.” 
He started filling the bowls with steaming rice straight from the rice cooker while the egg was frying on the pan. 
“I said I’m not hungry. I’m not here to eat.” 
“And I didn’ ask.” 
“Stop treating me like a child.” Anger was gathering in the pit of your stomach, twisting it more than it already was. 
“Then stop actin’ like one.” 
A moment of silence. 
You were speechless. 
A lump formed in your throat, successfully gagging you and preventing you from defending yourself. You could feel them, the tears forming in your eyes, threatening to fall over your lower lash line and roll down your cheeks. 
“Please, siddown so ya can eat your food.” 
You swallowed around the tightness in your throat and just nodded your head, not trusting your voice to keep steady. Without another word, you walked around the kitchen aisle and sat down on one of the tall bar stools, resting your forearms on the cold granite countertop. The stone was cold enough to sting your already cold skin, goosebumps forming on your arms. 
After not even two minutes the meal appeared in front of you – a bowl of rice, another bowl of miso soup with tofu, a plate filled with cut tamagoyaki and a small bowl of steamed spinach with garlic. 
“Eat up,” Bakugo said as he put his own bowls and plate on the countertop, sitting next to you. 
The food was warm, filling your tummy with a nice feeling. 
“It’s delicious.” You complimented after a few careful bites. You meant it. 
“It’s alright.” 
Ever the critic. Even when it comes to himself. 
The two of you were eating in silence, only the sounds of chewing and slurping filling the air. 
Bakugo raised his eyes from his meal when he noticed your reluctance to continue eating about halfway through the meal. 
“Why aren’ ya eatin’?” 
You could hear the disapproval in his voice. Not worry, not even concern. Just disapproval. 
“Uhm,” you started, but couldn’t finish your sentence. 
The godforsaken jeans you’d decided to wear were digging into your stomach painfully, to a point where a sharp pain was shooting up your chest. And you filling your belly more wasn’t helping it. 
“D’ya not like it?” 
“No! No, that’s not it.” You moved a piece of the omelette with your chopsticks around on the plate. “It really is delicious.” 
Hmph. 
You chewed on your lower lip. Bakugo was obviously unhappy with your answer. He was still staring you down. 
“I’m wearing my standing jeans.” You admitted after a few seconds. 
“Standin’ jeans.” He repeated, obviously not understanding the term. 
“Yeah. Standing jeans. Jeans that look great when you stand up, but you can't really sit down in them because they’re too tight.” 
Your laughable reason was met with silence, he was obviously letting you stew in the ridiculousness of it all. 
“They’re too tight when I sit down, they dig into my stomach.” 
Bakugo blinked at you once before he rolled his eyes and without a word got up and left the kitchen, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom. 
You heard some sounds coming from the other side of the flat before he reappeared with grey sweatpants in his hand, handing them to you. 
“Change.” 
“I’m not going to change into your sweatpants.” You protested, looking at the fabric in his extended hand. “I didn’t even want to stay here. Nor eat your food. Can we just get this over with?” 
You were this close to begging him. This close. Begging him to say the final words, those ones you had no guts to really say. Even though they were long overdue. 
“Ya look like shit.” 
“Excuse me?” 
“Ya heard me. Ya look like a’mess. Change'nto those damn sweatpants and finish your food.” 
You looked from his face to the sweatpants he was still holding out for you. Reluctantly, you took them and stood up, immediately feeling the relief in your midsection. You walked back into the hallway where you came from and disappeared in the door on the left – Bakugo’s bathroom. 
You peeked a look at yourself in the mirror immediately after closing the door behind you. He was right. You looked like shit. The concealer was cakey under your eyes; the foundation was sitting on your skin almost unnaturally, making you look like you were wearing some sort of a mask. The mascara formed spider legs on your lower lash line – where some stray tears had gathered. The Visine you had used obviously wasn’t working.
You could just leave the apartment. Just leave and not look back. Obviously, he would get the hint, right? 
Leave and not say a word. Save yourself from the uncomfortable conversation, the uncomfortable feelings that would inevitably bubble up your chest and settle in your throat. 
You sighed and put some liquid hand soap in your palm, turning on the water with your other hand. Smearing the soap across your face, you rubbed hard enough to get the mask off your face, so you could feel the inevitable tears on your skin without any barrier between the two. The soap was slightly stinging as it got into your eyes, but it didn’t stop you from rubbing your face with your nails until your skin was all red and the makeup was now underneath your fingernails. 
It didn’t matter if you wore your mask or not. Not anymore. He had seen right through it. Might as well bare yourself to him. 
Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you saw the black streaks of mascara all over your face, which made you dunk your face into the watery, soapy concoction for longer, until it was running down your forearms and to your elbows, dripping down onto the grey rug on the floor. It didn’t bother you at this point. 
You only opened your eyes again when you ran out of breath, now looking at beet-red skin with two bloodshot eyes that were staring back at you in the mirror. 
That would do for now. 
Opening the drawer underneath the bathroom sink, you knew exactly where to look to find the hair accessories Bakugo kept for all his hookups. Grabbing the ones you needed, you pinned your slightly damp hair out of your face. Stripping off your standing jeans, you folded them neatly into a nice square before you put on the grey sweatpants that were ill-fitting on you. 
It didn’t matter now. 
Didn’t matter what you looked like. 
You sniffled a little and opened the door, emerging into the hallway and letting only the slight taps of your feet announce your entry to the kitchen. 
Bakugo looked up from his meal, unphased, and nodded his head to himself. 
“Thanks for the sweats.” You put your jeans on the counter to your right, where there was empty space. 
“No problem.” 
That was actually kind of nice of him. 
Your brain whined in your head. 
He wasn’t supposed to be nice to you. Not now. Not when you needed a final push to end this. Like a coward. 
“Is al’this just ‘cause of me, or did somethin’ else happen?” 
You stayed silent for a while, instead putting in your mouth a spoonful of miso soup with a piece of tofu. 
Should you be honest with him, or lie? 
…It didn’t matter anymore, did it? 
“I got fired.” 
You stuffed your face with the fried egg. 
It was really nice to eat a warm meal after some time. Only now that you were wearing his sweatpants and your entire stomach wasn’t hurting from those damn jeans did you realise how much you actually relished the feeling of warmth filling you up. 
“Sorry t’hear that.” 
All you replied was a low hum from the back of your throat, continuing to fill the dark, empty space inside of you with the home-cooked meal. 
“Ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” He asked after a minute. 
You could see in your peripheral that he was looking at you now, pausing his eating. 
“Not really.” 
After that, the two of you finished eating in silence. Once you accepted that Bakugo knew you weren’t alright, the silence actually turned comfortable. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking things over while the two of you were eating. Was this really the last time you’d ever see him? He deserved to get dumped for how badly he had treated you, right? 
Maybe he had his reasons. Maybe something in his life happened the same way you got fired just recently? 
You shook your head from side to side discreetly as you swallowed down another mouthful. It was too late. You came here for a reason, and that reason was exactly what you were mulling over now. 
Don’t be a fucking coward. 
It was the right thing to do. 
Bakugo treated you as disposable. If that was what you were to him, there was no reason for you to stay. 
Were you ready to prove to yourself that you truly were disposable to him, though? 
You realised you had been staring at now empty plates and bowls in front of you only when Bakugo’s hand appeared in the picture to collect the dishes. 
“Thank you for the food, it was really nice.” 
“Hm.” 
You stayed seated at the kitchen island as you watched him neatly put the bowls and plates into the dishwasher. It was obvious that he followed a certain system. You didn’t even consider getting up and offering any help. You knew him well enough to know that he would scold you and tell you to sit down again. 
Your eyes drifted over his body while he was bending down to put the porcelain away. The way his back muscles moved underneath the fabric, the way the dirty blonde hair at the nape of his neck brushed against the skin. 
You could almost feel it. Feel his muscles move under your fingers, taste his skin on the tip of your tongue. 
Your eyes followed his movement as he finally turned around once he was done, resting his backside against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes met and your look didn’t falter. It didn’t. 
“So ya wanna break up?” 
You let him win and looked down at your lap. All you saw was the grey fabric that belonged to him. 
“Is it really a break-up if we haven’t even properly dated?” You dared to raise your eyes again. 
“Fair enough.” 
It was him now that looked down. You won this round. 
You were sitting on the bar stool in silence while he was just standing there, in the kitchen, the kitchen island creating sort of a safe barrier between you two. Your fingers were fidgeting in your lap, trying to make your mind focus on anything else than what was really going on in your head. 
Don’t say it. 
Don’t. 
“What happened?” 
You winced. You said it. 
“Whaddya mean?” 
This was a mistake. 
You abruptly got up and grabbed your jeans from the countertop. You were leaving in his sweatpants. You’ll send them back to him sometime later. 
“Wait.” 
You could hear his hurried footsteps following you to the living room area where you collected your purse from the couch. 
“Wait, god dammit,” he grabbed your arm and spun you around so you could face him. “What didya mean by that?” 
You were staring at the neckline of his hoodie, tears smudging your vision. There was not enough of them to roll over the notional barrier, but enough of them for you to fear that they would. 
“What didya mean by that?” He repeated the question. Now that he was so close to you, his voice got much softer. Much quieter. 
That along with the smell of his cologne and deodorant made you realise just how much you’d missed him. The emotion filled your body with a strange feeling of sorrow and grief. 
His hand left your arm and you craved for his touch to return. 
“What happened?” Your voice sounded broken. It felt like it was another person talking rather than you, you couldn’t recognise it. “It was so nice at the start.” 
You dared to look up at him, which turned out to be a mistake. The movement sent the drops of salty water over the edge of your waterline. You felt them rolling down your cheeks to your chin where they connected into one and dripped��down. 
Bakugo’s vermillion eyes followed the movement of the liquid on your face. He almost looked guilty. 
“I don’ know whaddya want me t’say.” 
“The truth.” 
He looked away from you for a few seconds while he put his hands in his pockets. It was clear he was debating it. Whether or not he should really be honest with you. 
“You owe me that much.” You encouraged him to talk even though you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to be anywhere else with anybody else than in his apartment with him. Maybe you were a masochist. 
“I used ya.” 
Fresh tears started streaming down your face as soon as his words registered in your brain. His saying it out loud made it all too real. If he hadn’t admitted it, you could still pretend it was something else. You could pretend and make yourself feel better about it. When he admitted it you lost the possibility and comfort of gaslighting yourself into thinking he had a good reason. 
He had enough sense to look at the floor almost shamefully when he carried on. 
“I had a lottov things goin’ on ada time. Ya distracted me from it.” 
You blinked harshly to force the water from your eyes out. The gentle gasp for air left your lips even though you tried to fight it, to conceal it from him. 
“’M sorry. I thought I could give ya more, ‘cause you’re really nice.” 
“Yeah, well… really nice doesn’t seem to cut it, does it?”  
You both stood there in silence for a few more beats before you felt his hand on your cheek, his thumb smearing the tear away from underneath your eye. 
“Don’t.” 
It was a quiet plea, a quiet plea that sounded too much like a whimper, leaving your lips parted after rolling off them. 
“I meant what I said.” He pulled his hand away from your cheek, moving it to the other and wiping your tears there as well with the upper side of his index finger. “Ya are nice.” 
“Whatever.” You removed your face from his touch, eyes glued to the floor. 
“Spend the night.” 
Was it an order, or a request? You didn’t know, but the sentence froze your feet to the floor before you could turn and make your exit. 
“What?” 
“Listen, listen. No funny business. Just, spend the night. Ya can sleep inda guest room.” He added the last sentence almost as an afterthought. 
Your eyebrows were furrowed above your eyes that were moving from right to left, going from one red eye to the other, trying to gauge the sincerity of his statement. 
“Spend the night.” He repeated once more, his voice just barely above a whisper. 
Your mind was screaming at you to get the hell out of that apartment, but you felt yourself nod. 
A masochist. 
“Yeah?” He was making sure. 
“Yeah,” you whispered, not even looking him in the eye. The lump in your throat was making you feel like you could choke on it and you already felt bad for betraying yourself like this and agreeing to his outrageous request. You couldn’t bear the way he was definitely looking at you on top of all of that. 
Bakugo gently put his hand on your shoulder and guided you back into the heart of his apartment. 
“D’ya wanna watch some movie?” He led you to the couch so you sat down on it without any protest. 
“Sure.” 
He sat down next to you, not really close, but not far away from you either, turning the TV on and switching to the streaming service on it immediately. 
You kept biting the inside of your cheek and looking everywhere else than at the TV or him. Hearing the opening of a movie, you raised your eyes to the big screen mounted on the wall. Your throat went dry as soon as you realised what was playing. 
“No, something else.” You demanded quickly. “I wanna watch something new.” 
Bakugo looked at you for a few seconds and then nodded his head, taking the TV remote in his hand once again and switching the movie to a different one. 
The movie that he initially pressed play on was a movie you talked about with him. You could still remember how you gushed about it, mentioning how it was your favourite movie growing up and saying the words we should watch it together sometime. Of course, that 'sometime' never really came. So, now you wouldn’t let him do this. You wouldn’t let him taint your movie. This was yours. He had no right to claim this thing as well. 
You wouldn’t let him have this because that would mean that at some point he actually listened to you. It would mean that at some point he might’ve tried if he cared enough.  
The sound of a different movie playing commanded your attention then and so you tried to tune in as much as possible. Just from the music, you could tell that it was an action movie. 
“Real’ like this one.” 
You wished he didn’t say those words. 
»»————-  ————-««
You were probably in the middle of the movie and lucky for you, you were already able to say that you hated it. Loud explosions, ridiculous situations, plot with holes. Surprisingly, Bakugo liked a Hollywood action movie with too big of a budget. 
Your eyes drifted from the TV screen to the window. Living this high up definitely had its perks. The view being one of the main ones. You remembered how naïve you had been when this situationship started. How you had thought maybe if this goes well, I’ll be looking at the same view every morning. 
“Ya don’t like it?” 
Ever the observant. 
You turned your head to the other side, looking at Bakugo who was looking right back at you. You bit your lip and shrugged your shoulders. 
“It’s fine.” 
You didn’t want to be mean but you also didn’t want to lie about liking it. 
“Fine?” 
Wrong answer, apparently. 
“I guess I just wasn’t in the mood for an action movie.” You tried to calm him down a little. Lying it was then. 
“Shoulda told me that hour and a'half ago. Dammit.” 
You watched him as he grabbed the remote and exited the movie. 
“What are ya inda mood for, then?” 
You watched his profile illuminated by the light from the TV screen for a few seconds. He was so beautiful it almost pained you. The constantly furrowed brows you almost couldn’t see because of his hair covering his entire forehead, his perfect nose, the shape of his lips. His skin without blemishes, apart from a few small scars, even though he didn’t really have a skincare routine. 
You remembered how you imagined what your possible babies would look like. They’d be perfect. 
“So?” He asked impatiently when you hadn’t answered immediately. 
His eyes met yours when you decided what to do. 
Moving closer to him, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Just as you remembered. He still tasted the same. It was Bakugo who leaned back, looking at you. Making sure you knew what you were doing. You leaned in more, kissing him again. Gently, almost tenderly. What if this was the last time you ever got to taste him? You relished the feeling, trying to commit to your memory as much as you could. His taste, his smell, the way his lips felt against you. The kiss got interrupted when he pressed his forehead against yours. 
“Are ya sure ya can handle it?”
You knew what he meant. Are you sure you can handle that, emotionally? Are you sure it won’t ruin you even more?  You couldn't help yourself. Bakugo was like a scab you couldn't stop picking at. An open wound that just wouldn't heal. He was your weak spot.
“No.” You said with your voice all breathy, kissing him once again, this time more passionately. Bakugo reciprocated without missing a beat, one of his hands grabbing the side of your face and the other one going straight to your waist. Not even a few seconds in, you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling him without breaking the kiss. 
You were eager. 
And Bakugo was just as eager as you. 
Part of your brain hated this. Hated how good his touch felt, hated how familiar all of this was. How safe you felt right in that moment and just how vulnerable and exposed it was all at the same time. You felt weak. 
Bakugo’s hand that was on your waist moved to your hip and gripped it tightly, pushing you back and forth, guiding your movements so you would grind against him. There was impatience in the movements from both of you. You knew where it was coming from on your end but the implications of it coming from him made your heart drop in your chest. 
“Need you.” You half whined against his lips before you quickly stood up and took off the sweatpants he had lent you. Bakugo followed suit – he took off his trousers hastily and welcomed you back in his lap with open arms, immediately grabbing at your flesh and squeezing what he could. 
“Couldn’t leave ‘thout one last fuck, could ya?” He growled against your skin when he moved his lips to your neck and started kissing and nibbling it. 
You let out a quiet moan and grabbed his growing bulge through his boxers, the thin fabric the only thing separating you from him. He was almost fully hard already, huffing against your neck as you stroked him. 
“Fuck, okay, lemme go grab a condom.” The hero parted from your neck momentarily and was about to get you off of him and get up when you stopped him. 
“No!” 
You surprised yourself with how quickly you objected to that. Bakugo stopped himself and gave you a look. 
“No,” you said calmer this time. “I wanna feel you.” 
You deserved it. You deserved this. You deserved at least one good thing in your life. And he would be the one to give it to you. You didn't need his love or affection. All you needed was a piece of him.
You pushed his underwear down just enough so his balls and dick, now fully hard, were free and stroked it, eliciting an almost painfully sounding groan from the man. 
“I wanna feel you tonight.” You repeated, pushing your own panties to the side and lining him up with your entrance. 
You definitely needed more prep than this, you knew that it would be an uncomfortable stretch and that you weren’t wet nearly enough to help with it, but you couldn’t wait any longer. 
You groaned from the slight sting, it was a bit worse than you expected it to be. 
“Shit, easy.” Bakugo put his hand on your hip to slow you down a bit. “No need’da hurry. We got all night, princess.” 
»»————-  ————-«« 
You sat on the bathroom floor in your mother’s flat, having to temporarily move in with her due to your unemployment. The phone you kept pressed against your ear kept ringing and ringing. To be honest, you were expecting it to go straight to a voicemail right away. 
“Yeah?” He picked it up probably at the last possible ring. 
“Hey.” You greeted him. “Listen, could we talk?” You bit your lip as you looked at the positive pregnancy test in your hand. 
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cottonlemonade · 1 month
Text
How You Met
word count: 927 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.
pairing: post time-skip Kita x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff
warnings: youths
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Kita pulled out his phone to take the obligatory picture of the first cherry blossoms of the year, angling the camera against the light of a street lamp for effect and ducking his shoulders against a brisk breeze that rocked the branches back and forth as if grabbed by an invisible hand. Pink petals fluttered through the air like snow and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes, listening intently to faint sounds of the city in the distance. When he opened his eyes again he spotted you and his heart gave a little jolt.
The first time he had seen you was around mid February when Atsumu and his then new girlfriend just started dating and were making good use of the friendly neighborhood taxi service. (Atsumu’s reckless driving had led to yet another suspension of his license so after promising Kita to help him out at the farm on his days off for a month, Kita agreed to drive him twice a week.)
One night, as he was picking up the lust-driven delinquent, his phone buzzed with a notification about a flash sale happening at a nearby boba store he liked. Seeing as he had already spent 20 minutes in the car, fruitlessly waiting for the new couple to wrap things up upstairs, he decided to take the short walk to quickly collect the promised deal and that’s when he saw you - your cute full cheeks cuddled into a thick scarf and puffy coat collar, waiting in line along with another dozen or so people. Once the boba and free snacks were retrieved, he and you met eyes for a moment. You tilted your head ever so slightly and gave a small curious smile before bowing and leaving.
After that you had run into each other every so often at that little park, sometimes over another sale at a food store of some kind, sometimes just because you were both taking a stroll in the crisp night air (one of you more voluntarily than the other) and over the following few weeks he realized he didn't seem to mind driving his former teammate all over town anymore - even going as far as to suggest additional visits to his girlfriend or to grab dinner at a restaurant in that neighborhood. Atsumu, while suspiciously squinting at him from the passenger seat every time, didn’t say anything.
Tonight it looked like you were coming from grocery shopping, readjusting a bag weighing heavy in your hand while trying to keep your purse from slipping off your shoulder. Your steps slowed for a second when you saw him standing there, his phone still in hand, blatantly staring at you and you smiled, giving the small wave that passed between you two as a routine greeting by now.
He swallowed and made his way towards you, ready to offer help carrying the bag when a lot of things happened very quickly. A group of teens dashed by on their bikes, not bothering to alert you of their presence, driving past so narrowly you were pushed from left to right, stumbling a little. He shouted after the boys to apologize but they just laughed and drove on. Kita turned around to you who looked shocked but unharmed and began to walk again when a last straggler from the group came racing along the pathway and knocked you to the ground, calling for his friends to wait.
Kita jogged over and knelt at your side.
“Are you alright?”, he asked, hesitating for a second, before grabbing your elbow, carefully pulling you to your feet. Your hands and knees were scraped, your bag torn. You nodded and he helped you to a nearby bench to sit down before swiftly gathering the scattered groceries, some beyond saving as the boys had driven over them, like splattered grapes and a split carton of milk.
“Thank you very much.”, you said and tried to shake strands of hair out of your face, unable to use your shivering hands.
Without thinking he raised his own to brush it back for you, his mouth feeling very dry when your eyes met.
After an impossibly long moment he cleared his throat and told you to stay put while he would head to the pharmacy around the corner and before you could stop him, he was on his way. You looked down at your ripped jeans - now more ripped and dirtied by the fall - and grimaced.
When he returned he knelt in front of you again, tearing open the bag of disinfectant wipes and after checking with you that he wasn't overstepping, began cleaning your knees and hands, reassuring you and careful he didn't touch you more than necessary, put plasters on the now cleaned cuts.
“Thank you.”, you said again and took the arm he had offered you to get up.
He held out a new bag he had gotten from the pharmacy in which he had stacked the few unscathed groceries and you accepted it with a bow.
You both stood there for a while, neither really knowing what to do next.
"Sorry for all the trouble.", you said finally and he looked at you, kneading your fingers, looking anywhere but at him and he saw a distinct blush creeping into your cheeks. You were even prettier up close.
"Don’t worry about it.", he said simply when his brain started to work again. A pleasant shiver trickled down your spine at his calm soft voice.
"Could I… invite you for some coffee tomorrow? As a Thank You."
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a/n: I wanted this to feel like the most cliched romance anime/kdrama meet cute imaginable.
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theglamorousferal · 10 months
Text
The Cryptid of Smallville
I am posting the first couple chapters of the fic that I am currently working on juuuust in case AO3 goes down again. In the next couple days I’ll start posting some of my wips that I don’t think I’ll finish. If any of them inspire people to write more then I’ll be happy. 
I had the thought a while ago about what if Danny was raised alongside Clark Kent and the hijinks that would result in Danny being near the liminal space that is cornfields. These are basically a series of connected one-shots because I am not that great at trying to do a real plot lol
Without further ado, here’s the first chapter of the Cryptid of Smallville! (Small edit: here’s the link to AO3 the first two chapters are there)
______________________________________________________________ The night sky was clear and open above the cornfields as a gentle breeze caused the plants to stir. It was a calm night on the Kent family farm. A streak of neon green broke across the sky and landed in the middle of the fields, purple tinged smoke wafting from the crash site. A boy of about six rolled over in his sleep, glowing green eyes glancing at the stars above framed by smoke. The gentle breeze is still blowing, returning the night to calm.
*****
Danny was gonna put Clockwork in soup time whenever he got back into the Zone. 
He was laying there, staring at the clouds in the sky, surrounded by corn, and only about three and a half feet tall, wondering where in the Realms he was. Clockwork had said something about sending him off somewhere with people who could handle a child with powers growing up before tossing him through a portal by the ankle. He had ended up in low orbit and was lulled to sleep by staring at the stars he is so fond of.
Crawling out of the hole he was in, he examined the surrounding area and just found a bunch of burnt and slightly smoldering corn and kicked up dirt. The gentle breeze brought the smell of bacon to his nose and he floated to look just above the tall plants around him. He spots a house in the distance and starts heading there, making sure to walk the last few yards just in case this isn’t where CW intended him to go. He finds himself stumbling from the field just to make eye contact with a man pulling on his work boots for the day on the porch steps, the man freezes. 
“Hey Martha?” The man yells into the house.
“Yes Jon?” a voice muffled from the door yells back.
“Do we have a spare room done up?” the man, Jon, asks, not taking his eyes off Danny.
“Why? Are you expecting someone and forgot to tell me?” the voice sounds like it’s getting closer to the door.
“No honey, I think we may have a repeat situation of Clark though.” He briefly glances from Danny up to the last bits of smoke wafting from the field. A quiet “What?” comes from the house. He gentles his voice, full attention on Danny. “Hey son, did you have a bit of an accidental landing in the corn? Is your head okay? Are your parents around?”
Danny stays still for a moment thinking about what’s going on. The man seems to at least suspect that he crash landed on his property and mentioned something about something like this happening before. Have these people dealt with a random child appearing at their house before? Specifically one that crashed from the sky? He has many questions, but he should probably answer Jon first. 
“Yeah, I got sent away until I was better, my head doesn’t hurt at all and my parents are not exactly from around here, and don’t know where I am.” He pauses thinking about it. “Does the children-crashing-onto-your-farm-thing happen a lot to you?”
Jon chuckled as he finished tying his boots up and walked down the stairs just as the door opens and a woman in an apron is standing there looking surprised to see an unknown child standing in her yard. The man crouches down in front of Danny, giving him a once-over. 
“You’d be surprised, now what’s your name son?.”
“It’s Danny Fenton, what’s yours?”
“Jon Kent, my wife over there is Martha. Now you look like you could use a good meal and a washup, how’s that sound?” Jon grins at Danny and musses up his hair before standing and offering a hand to walk into the house. He smiles over at Martha who blinks and then gives Danny a warm smile, standing aside to let them enter the house.
“Good thing I made some extra breakfast then, let’s get some food in you young man, you’re as skinny as a post!” She smiles and heads towards the kitchen. “Be sure to wash up your hands first hun, can’t eat with dirty hands! And Jon! What have I told you about your muck boots being in the house! I’m sure Danny can find his way and wash his own hands; second door on the right hun; and git outta my house with those things on, I’ll have more coffee ready for you once you feed the animals!” Jon pouted and trudged his way out of the house.
Danny smiled a little to himself as he looked for the door Martha was talking about, noting the wallpaper and decor that looked like every midwest farmer’s house he’d seen in any piece of media ever. After washing his hands he made his way to where he could hear soft humming and dishes being washed. He saw a plate of pancakes and bacon on the table next to a glass of orange juice, a glass of milk, and a container of syrup and headed to the spot.
“Thank you Mrs. Kent.” he said from his seat and she smiled back at him, going back to the dishes. Danny realized he’d probably have to start explaining what he could to them soon, but decided to focus on the breakfast in front of him. The breakfast that wasn’t alive and currently trying to kill him. He nearly cried.
“So Danny,” Martha began as she wiped her hands off with a dish rag. “Do you remember how it is you got here?” She joined him at the table with a cup of coffee after setting a mug, a spoon and the sugar bowl next to the machine for her husband when he came in.
“I do, it’s a really weird story though, I’m not sure you’ll believe me.” He was hesitant, he still wasn’t sure these were the people that Clockwork meant to send him to. Though they’ve taken the whole crash-landed-child-thing pretty well… Screw it, he’ll see if he can wait until Jon comes back and explain to both of them. “Can we wait for Mr. Kent too? I don’t really want to say it twice.” 
She smiled at him, taking a sip of her coffee and then nodded. “That’s fine hun, he shouldn’t be more than a couple minutes unless the rooster decided to pick a fight again.” she chuckled to herself, looking out of the window while drinking her coffee. She sees the faint trail of smoke rising in the sky outside and her eyebrows pinch in worry. “You didn’t happen to see anythin’ burning when you got up, did you?” 
Danny glances out the window and sees the smoke. “Oh no, there was just a little bit still smoldering in the hole, but there wasn’t anything actively burning. I can show you both when I finish explaining what I can.” The slapping of a screen door startles him and Jon walks in, heading straight for the coffee maker and making himself a cup, then joining them at the table.
“So Danny-boy, what can you tell us?” Jon gives his full attention to Danny. 
Danny shifts in his seat, looking every part the six year old he appeared to be, uncertain at the attention of two adults. “Well, it’s a long story and kinda out there? I’m not sure how much you’ll believe?” He looks uncertain at the pair across from him who share a look. Martha reaches across the table to take Danny’s hand.
“Honey, you wouldn’t believe the stuff we’re used to, I’m sure it’s fine.”
Danny only hesitated a moment longer and then sighed looking far older than his apparent six years. “So to start off with, wherever this is, I’m not from around here. I’m assuming since you both speak English that this is still Earth, but maybe not MY Earth, I’m still a bit confused on the whole ‘multiverse’ thing, but either way, I got sent here until some stuff got sorted out and so I’ll be here until it does.” He was rambling, he knew, but he’s kind of anxious about stuff. “I kinda got put in my childhood body and now I have to get back to my actual age and my Guardian said something about time here running differently than in my dimension before he just chucked me through a portal. He did say he was sending me to people who could handle my weirdness as I age, so I’m assuming you are them and maybe have some experience with kids with freaky weird stuff happening to them?”
The Kents once more shared a look, this one a little longer than the last, then turned back to Danny. “Oh son, I think you’ll fit in just fine. So, how long can we expect you for? I can tell you’re probably a lot older than six judging by how you talk?”
Danny blinked at him, trying to process the fact that they didn’t seem phased and rather seemed like they believed him. “Uh, I was sixteen, so I guess a decade? I’m sorry to impose on you for a while, really I can figure out stuff on my own, I don’t want to be a bother.”
Jon chuckled “Oh trust me son, it wouldn’t be an issue, I’m sure Clark would love a younger brother, or at the very least a friend who understands him. We have plenty of room here, and though we’d probably ask you for help with chores, we’d be glad to have you for however long you need.”
Danny blinks again at them. They weren’t serious, right? They just seem fine taking in a random child and having him live with them for however long. And who was this Clark? What did he mean by younger brother?
“Clark?” he asked hesitantly.
“Oh right, our son, you’ll meet him when he gets home from school, I’m sure you’ll get along just fine! Now Danny, let me show you to a room and we can get you settled, we’ll probably have to head on over to the thrift shop to get you something to wear besides these charred and muddy pj’s, but we should have something from Clark that’s too small that’ll fit you for now.” Martha took his hand and led him upstairs to where he’d be in apparently his new home.
*****
Clark had had a pretty boring day at school. The classes were boring. He had to hold back in gym class again and when studying the skeletal system in biology, he started studying the teacher’s bones instead of the display skeleton or the worksheet. He was really looking forward to getting home and maybe going for a fly around the fields where no one could see him or maybe catching the latest episode of Rescue Rangers. 
He could spot his house in the distance and after looking around to make sure no one would see him, he sped down the driveway as fast as he could, knocking up a lot of dirt in the process. He really liked going fast, whether running or flying. He just loved the wind in his hair. 
“Ma, Pa, I’m home.” he kicked his sneakers off and rushed upstairs into his room to drop off his bag. He listened around for heartbeats and realized that Pa was out on the tractor and Ma was out with the chickens. He froze as he heard a much closer sound though. It was very slow and faint, but he could hear another heartbeat in the house. Even more, he could hear someone muttering to themselves in the guest room and the flipping of pages.
Clark slowly made his way down the hall towards the sound and peaked in the room with his x-ray vision. There, sitting on the ceiling, was a child about half his age reading a ratty old book about space. Clark stood in the doorway, now able to see him in regular vision and just stared at him. He took a moment until he decided to just join him up there and sat across from him.
“So who are you?” Clark asked while the kid was still focused on his book. He didn’t even look up from the book.
“Name’s Danny.” The kid paused for a second before he looked up and stared at Clark. Danny looked from Clark to the ceiling, to the floor, and then back to Clark. “Oh, so that’s why they said I’d fit right in here. I guess we are pretty similar! I’m guessing you’re Clark then?” The child beamed at him, putting out his hand to shake. Clark took it gently, not wanting to hurt the kid. Then the kid gripped his hand tight and Clark realized that they have more in common than he thought and gripped his hand tighter in response.
“So where are you from?” Clark asked, very curious as to how this kid who could fly and had his strength, but also had almost no heartbeat ended up at his house. Danny rubbed the back of his neck.
“Well, I’m not from this Earth and I kinda got put here to recover for a long while and my Guardian decided your parents are the best equipped to handle a kid growing up with powers, so he sent me here. I’m guessing because of you?” 
“Yeah, mine started manifesting around your age. What powers do you have? How long do you plan to be here? Where are you from? You said this wasn’t your Earth, I’m guessing you’re from a different dimension then? That’s so cool!” Clark, ever curious, shot off many questions rapid fire and Danny laughed while answering them all as best he could.
Part 2
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chrollohearttags · 10 months
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my fruity ass is missing nail!tech mikasa and her pretty fem gf 🥲🥲🥲
I miss my pookie wookie too and I cannot stop thinking about (y/n) spending day at work with her, cutting up! 😭 (also, side note: I’ve decided that the reader is going to be a lash tech in this au! So sorry for the confusion!)
content warning: lots of fluff and banter, humor, sexual jokes, kissing, pet names, mentions of alcohol, (sweet pea, baby)
working with your girlfriend was always an interesting experience. The Sugar and Spice Haus, her salon, had been a staple in the city for quite a few years. People lined up for miles around to get their nails slayed by the finest tech around. But ever since you decided to work alongside her after completing your certification to become a lash tech. You’d opened up shop with the spare space she had and it was more than enough to profit off of and perfect your craft. The two of you saw average of at least twenty customers a day. Which sounded minuscule but they paid amicably so it made up and with you being the only ones there, it was a pretty hectic workload. So you’d have to keep yourselves entertained oftentimes to avoid burning out and needless to say, things were a lot of fun! And sometimes….
“Hey, baby. Can you grab me that brush over there?”
“Nah, ion want to.”
“See how I’m treated in this relationship? Just awful..”
you played a little too much! It wasn’t uncommon for your customers see the two of you joking around as you worked away to fulfill their beauty needs. Lively music playing throughout the room, complimentary drinks and little candies offered at arrival and of course, two fine and funny women to keep them entertained throughout the services. Oftentimes, your customers would ask questions about how the two of you met and what your relationship was like. And not once would the two of you give a completely serious answer. Mikasa was definitely the one with the sarcastic mouth and quick witted responses. She’d just say things that were unintentionally funny but would have everyone laughing. You on the other hand loved to joke around and clown. Your infectious laugh and smile always the highlight of hers and everyone else’s day. It was always a good time..
“This bitch stayed in trouble, y’all. Every day, she was in detention..we sitting in class, hear comes the speaker: “Mikasa Ackerman, can you report to the principal’s office?”
“And your ass only knew because you were right there beside me. I remember one time, she almost got suspended because she told one of the teachers she was built like Hank Hill and the crack of her ass went all the way to her neck. Whole class busted out laughing. That woman was so pissed, I thought she was going to strangle (y/n). I swear, she’s such a terrible influence.”
immediately sending the two of you and your clients into hysterics. When one would finish a set, if the other was on a break, you’d ask each other to examine your work and it always, without fail, elicited a smart mouthed response. “What do you think of these nails, (y/n)?” “I mean…they aight. They ain’t all that.” Lying through your teeth and unable to keep a straight face because they’d be the most gorgeous set you’d ever seen. “Listen, you wanna take her home with you? ‘Cause she’s aggravating.” Pointing to you and staring at her appointment at the time, who’d tell you two that they couldn’t imagine either of you with anyone else and that you were perfect for one another. There was so much love and laughter in your relationship that it made the long days pass by like a breeze. There wasn’t a moment that was dull or boring with the love of your life around. When the later crowd would come in or on days you’d serve alcoholic drinks because the guy who was licensed to do so would be there, it was even more entertaining and the conversations got even crazier!
“That frozen mango margarita looks so damn good. I’ll get one after I go on break. (Y/N), get my wallet from the back.”
“Unt uh, I ain’t getting you that. It’s gone go straight to your coochie and now we gotta close down early for the day.”
“See, you talk too much. That’s your problem because why are you telling my business?”
just enjoying every bit of your time together. Most people would despise working with their spouses but it never felt like work when you enjoyed what you done and who you done it alongside..after a long day, you’d be in the back, counting up your earnings and being all affectionate. Sitting on her lap with her arms coiling your waist as she rested her head on your shoulder..glancing over paperwork. Meanwhile, you counted up your earnings for the day. “I had fun today.” “So did I, I’m so glad you’re here, sweet pea.” Mumbling into the crook of your neck as she kisses you and the sentiment is the exact same from you. Since starting there, you’d never smiled so much while working. She made your days easier and much more enjoyable. And truthfully, Mika felt less lonely with you around. Loving every second of that time you got together. Giving each other soft, subtle kisses right there before finishing up and heading home for the evening. When you had the love of your life by your side, it was always a good time and when you loved what you done for a living, it never truly felt like a day of work.
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m00nlight-ramblings · 3 months
Text
Like Real People Do: Chapter 1
You are the new girl at Hawkins High for your junior year. As a stereotypical "goody goody", you've been focused on friends, studies, and getting into college...so when you become friends with Eddie Munson, it completely throws a wrench in your system. But, sometimes, that can be a very, very good thing. (slow burn strangers to friends to lovers)
This is "Like Real People Do: Chapter 1"
Pairings: Eddie x AFAB reader (for continuity sake, you will have a name because I truly hate writing "y/n" it gives me hives, but it won't be prevalent enough to be distracting)
Warnings: swearing. every chapter will have their own warnings - eventually, their will be fluff, angst, smut. THIS ENTIRE SERIES IS 18+ MINORS DNI
Word Count: 2.64k
A/N: My Eddie obsession will never leave me, apparently lol. Some of the plot will be out of order from the show - I'm not quite sure if I want to incorporate the Upside Down stuff just yet. Graphic made by me, I do not give permission for it (or this series) to be shared without my knowledge.
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The end-of-summer breeze was light, running through the open window of your car. You had your arm extended out the driver window, lightly tapping the outside of the door as you drove slowly down the road where Hawkins High School was located. The closer you got, the more the butterflies fluttered in your stomach, bouncing off of the walls and causing you to breathe out shaky breaths every 10 seconds (approximately).
Bananarama’s “Venus” was playing through the speaker of the sound system in your car – normally, you’d be singing along, your toes tapping along to the beat. But instead, you felt like you were driving into something awful – a battle, or a funeral, perhaps.
Which, if you think about it, is probably the exact opposite place that you should be listening to Bananarama’s “Venus”.
As you turned the corner, you saw kids from both the high school and close by middle school mingling outside, in the parking lot. It seemed that everyone – except for you – had First Day of School™ smiles plastered on their faces, which only added to your growing pit of nerves. Slowly, you maneuvered into your assigned parking spot – lucky 31 – and parked the car, rolling up the window and turning down the music. You let out a shaky breath and gripped the steering wheel so hard, your knuckles turned white.
“It is your first day of school,” You reminded yourself, trying hard not to look at the people walking around your car abstinent-mindedly, chatting to their friends about what they did over summer vacation. You felt a pang of sadness as you yearned for your best friends back home – this past summer was the first summer in high school you three didn’t work together at the local Dairy Queen, and even though you hated that job, you missed them so much sometimes your heart hurt.
Shaking the sadness out of your quickly, you looked ahead and started again, “It’s your first day of school. It is your first day of school – you are not about to enter a Roman Coliseum to fight a caged tiger.” Accidentally, you made eye contact with a boy walking past the car, who squinted his eyes at you in confusion.
Although you feel like you’re surrounded by caged tigers… You thought, expelling another shaky breath. Were you sure that boy wasn’t a caged tiger? Because he sure was making you feel like it.
“It’s your first day of school,” You whispered again, checking your watch. 10 minutes until you had to meet the principal in their office to get the grand tour and your class schedule. “It’s your first day of school, and you’re going to kick ass. It’s nothing to be scared of.” You watched another person make a face at you while they walked by.
Okay, time to stop talking to yourself in the car.
You grabbed your backpack and opened the door, your knees feeling slightly like Jello. Locking the door behind you, you made your way through the front door of the building. According to the packet that came in the mail a few week’s prior, the principal’s office was almost directly next to the entrance, to the right.
Turning to the right, you saw the front office, with the sign “Hawkins High Front Office” plastered at the top of the doorway.
Okay. That wasn’t so hard.
Progress.
You stepped in, stepping into the small line that had already formed at the receptionist’s desk. Taking in your surroundings, you heard multiple phones ringing, and multiple conversations happening at once.
School wasn’t hard for you – in fact, you actually loved school. Known as a Goody-Goody at your last school, you were interested in homework, and getting good grades. In your junior year and on the fast track to a big university, possibly on the East Coast, you wanted to study psychology to become a therapist.
So, school definitely wasn’t hard for you. What was hard was moving to a new state due to your dad’s new job, and having to start school smack dab in the middle of your high school career. Being 550 miles away from everything you had ever known was tough – doing it at 17-years-old was even worse.
“Miss?” The receptionist said, pulling you back to reality. You snapped your head forward and saw that she was smiling politely, but definitely impatiently. You blushed as you stepped forward, being next in line. “How can I help you?” She asked as you stepped up. She had thick glasses and lipstick had already stained her teeth, even though it was only 7:00 in the morning. She tapped her pencil against the desk as she waited for your response.
“Oh, hi,” You said, subconsciously running your tongue over your teeth, “Um, today is my first day…I transferred in. And I was told to be here now to meet with the principal –”
“Brooke Henway?” The receptionist interrupted. You nodded. Quickly, she waved her hand as if to say come on, “This way. Principal Higgins is in his office and will be waiting for you. Have a great first day.” She knocked on a door marked “Principal Higgins” on a gold plaque, the entire sentence a monotone run-on. Offering a strained smile to you, she scooted back to her desk, shouting, “WHO’S NEXT?!”
You sighed heavily and re-adjusted your backpack, shoving your hands in your jeans pockets. Rocking on your heels, you reminded yourself that no matter how large and scary it felt, this was just a high school, and not a Roman Coliseum.
This was going to be a long year.
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Shutting the door to your locker, you felt exhausted. The first day of school wasn’t bad – people here were actually pretty nice, and it seemed like you would be able to keep up in your classes fairly easy. But a first day of school would be tiring anyway…adding on that it was a first day at a new school, and you were downright asleep with your eyes open.
You were just about to make your way to your car – home at last! – when all of the sudden, what sounded like a heard of buffalo made its way down the seemingly empty hallway. You turned to face the noise at the end of the hallway, and a group of rowdy boys turned the corner, laughing and shouting about something that made them so excited, they seemed to be breaking the sound barrier. Something told you hang back a second, so you decided to wait until they passed to head out to the parking lot.
The group consisted of what seemed like various grades – definitely a few freshmen, but some seemed older. A few were wearing shirts that boasted “HELLFIRE CLUB” on them, and they seemed like a rag-tag group. One boy with longer, curly, brown hair and a leather jacket, made eye contact with you while he was smiling at one of the younger looking boys. For a split second, you both maintained eye contact as the group passed by you, and you felt a little jolt in your tummy.
Okay…he’s kinda hot. You thought, a smiling threatening to break through on your lips. Even though he wasn’t technically smiling at you, he seemed nice.
Or, at least funny since he was making the rest of the boys around him howl with laughter.
As soon as they passed, Long Curly Hair Boy shoved his hand in his back pocket, causing whatever was in there to tip out, scattering on the ground. They sounded plastic by the sound of the pink pink! noise they made as they fell on the linoleum, but they group didn’t hear over their conversation. You stepped to them, snatching them in your hand.
Looking down at them, they seemed like dice, except there was way too many sides. Inquisitively, you investigated them, turning them over with your finger. The dice themselves were a cool, swirly black and maroon color, while the numbers on them were a metallic gold.
Suddenly, you remembered these cool, weird dice were not, in fact, yours.
“Hey! Excuse me?” You shouted, jogging to catch up with the group. At first, they didn’t hear you, so you shouted again. “Heyyyyy! Hey!”
Almost as one organism, they all turned at the same time (and weirdly, in the same direction). Long Curly Hair Boy had his arm around two of the younger guys – Smaller Long Curly Hair Boy, and Tall And Lanky Looking Boy – affectionately. You locked eyes again and he widened his smile.
“Yesssss? Can I help you?” He asked in a playful tone. You extended your hand, flattening your palm to show off the dice.
“You dropped these.”
He looked at the dice and one of the boys whistled. Quickly looking back up to you with appreciation, he quickly took the dice and put them in his back pocket, “Geeze, thanks. Can’t believe I would’ve left those. They were custom made…” He looked back at you and tiled his head, “…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”
You smiled, “Because you haven’t. I’m new…moved here this summer. Today was my first day,” You offered, but then remembered that today was everyone’s first day, “Well I mean, like here. In Hawkins.”
Long Curly Hair Boy chuckled and nodded, “No, I got what you meant. Well, welcome to the exotic and exciting Hawkins, Indiana! I’m Eddie,” He introduced the rest of the gang (Smaller Long Curly Hair Boy was actually named Dustin, and Tall and Lanky Looking Boy was actually named Mike).
“I’m Brooke,” You said after they were done. There was a moment of silence after pleasantries were exchanged and you raised your eyebrows, “Welp…I better get home. Even though it’s only the first day, I have like, 100 pages of reading for English, so…” You jabbed your thumb in the direction of the parking lot, your voice trailing off.
“Right, right. Well, we better go too…” Eddie started, crossing and uncrossing his arms, “Thanks again for saving my butt with my dice back there…and see you around.” He smiled again and the group said their goodbyes, walking away collectively as one organism again. You chuckled watching them leave.
Teenage boys are so fucking weird.
You headed out to the parking lot and got into your car. As you turned the radio up and rolled down your window, you found yourself smiling.
Yeah…maybe the first day wasn’t so bad.
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Something about the new girl had thrown Eddie’s head for a minor tailspin.
Sure, he had only talked to her for like, 30 seconds. And sure, it wasn’t flirty by any means. But there was something about her…was it her smile? Or the way her hair was shining in the afternoon sunlight? Or maybe it was, even with such little conversation, Eddie could tell she was really nice – a “kind soul” was what he had heard it described as.
Jesus Christ, he knew this girl for all of two minutes and he was already waxing poetic.
Thankfully, he was able to shake the thoughts of her off as he focused back on the main thing he should be focusing on after the first day of school.
His new Dungeons and Dragons campaign.
Quickly scribbling ideas down, he worked through some new thoughts he had conjured up in third period. Smiling as he did so – he had a feeling Henderson would love the new direction he was taking it – he bobbed his head to the Iron Maiden tape playing in his stereo next to him. Thankful for the new, freshmen recruits he had met earlier in the summer, he hadn’t been so excited for a campaign in a long time – and this Friday, they were going to have their first, official Hellfire meeting of the school year.
“EDDIE,” Wayne screamed over his music, knocking on his door, “PHONE FOR YOU.”
“THANKS.” Eddie replied, not looking up as he shut the music off. He snagged the phone in his room out of its cradle, “Y-ello?”
“So she was really hot, right?” Dustin’s voice rang through the phone and Eddie heard Wayne’s chuckle as he hung up the other phone in the kitchen. Embarrassed, Eddie rolled his eyes, even though Dustin couldn’t see him.
“What?”
“I said, ‘she was really hot, right’?”
“No, Dustin, I heard you, but what the hell are you talking about?”
“The new girl!” Dustin groaned, “The new girl is pretty cute! You know exactly who I’m talking about!”
“Dustin…” Eddie sighed, rubbing his forehead in between his eyebrows, “I don’t even remember her name -”
“Yes, you do.”
Yes, I do.
“Whatever. Point is, who cares?”
“Who cares?! Us…we should care!” Dustin sounded exhausted already, “She’s a new girl – a new, hot, girl – and she was nice to us! On the first day! Do you know what that means?!”
“…no?”
“It means, genius, that we could get our high school credibility up! She doesn’t know that we’re the freaks of the school – yet – and she was nice to us! That combo means that we could have a pretty girl as a friend, thus making us cool!”
“Dustin…” Eddie winced internally at the word “freak”, “I don’t care about my credibility in this dumb town.”
“Well, it’ll make our lives easier! My whole life, I was thrown into lockers because I’m a nerd with new teeth basically every other year…if we have pretty, nice girl as a friend, that could change! We’ll still be nerds -”
“But with a pretty, nice friend?” Eddie finished, basically checking out of the conversation.
“Exactly!” Dustin shouted excited.
“Okay, Henderson, I’m going to hang up the phone now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Ugh, okay fine. But just think about it, okay?!”
“Yeah, sure, bye.” Eddie rushed to hang up the phone, the idea of talking any more about Brooke making him sweat a little bit. He sighed, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders, before he turned his stereo on again.
But even with the pen in his hand, and music playing in his room, Eddie still couldn’t concentrate on his campaign, and tried shake the thought of you. He didn’t need to have a “nice, pretty friend” because he truly didn’t care, but it would be nice to have you as a friend.
Or at least, he thought.
Maybe “this will be my year” would take on a whole new meaning now.
---
A/N: thanks so much for reading, y’all! I have Eddie Munson brainrot right now, so even though I have oneshots AND another multi-chapter fic I’m working on, I guess my brain also decided I needed to write this one too lol. As always, your likes, reblogs, and comments mean the world to me, so they’re greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think!
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cursedkeyboard · 4 months
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Funnily enough, I've never been too big of a Jason Todd fan. Not because I don't like him, he's a great character, but because DC fails over and over again to give him justice and treat him right.
The number of times alone this boy has been beaten by his adoptive father, betrayed, and forgotten are far too many, far too much.
And the constant portrayal of Jason as this volatile, violent, mindless man is tiresome, lazy in all senses of the word and overdone. I understand that Jason was unstable after he left the pit, I mean, who wouldn't? The trauma of his death alone could've sent anyone crazy, but then to experience everything else afterwards, including having to come to terms that Bruce not only did not kill his murder but also replaced him, leaving Jason to grieve what was once his and what he should've gotten, of course he'd be less than okay.
Again, I'm not the biggest Jason Todd fan but I do wish more people would see just how much good Jason has in his heart, how kind and gentle he can be once his walls are down, when he's no longer constantly analyzing your actions and wondering why would you bother talking to him, getting closer to him.
In my opinion, a man who is so gentle with children, who constantly gives second, third, and fourth chances to people who don't deserve it, who despite it all still wants to make a change and protect the city that failed him, couldn't possibly be anything but the most caring partner. Not just partner, no, also brother and friend.
We all know what he did to Tim and Damian, there are reasons, such as his mental instability at the time and rage, and though those are not excuses, I believe Jason would still drop everything to go save his family. He might complain, he might brood, but family is something important to him even when just looking at them hurts him. He lost his loving mother, stepmother, far too early and it's not hard to imagine that even with all the pain and grief inside his torn heart, the little boy inside Jason still craves the warmth of a family.
Just look at the way he treats his friends, at the way he helps them through situations no one else would, how caring and attentive he is. Jason is gentle, sure, he is rough and mean and he's got blood on his hands, but Jason is made of love.
Jason was made to be loved.
So I think, whether platonic or romantically, Jason would treat you so well. He'd scold you for not wearing warm clothes during winter, "We're in Gotham, you fucking moron, you wanna freeze to death?", all while wrapping you with his jacket or scarf. He'd make sure you're eating at least something every day, and if not, he would immediately put you under his arm, maybe over his shoulder, and take you to the nearest food chain he could find, "I don't want to hear you complaining about headaches when all you had today was a cup of coffee and gum.".
Lord, he'd be torn between freaking out and being extremely annoyed that you got hurt, be it at work, a fight, or just out of clumsiness. But no matter what, his hands would always be so, so gentle when touching you. The tip of his fingers brushing under the injury, as light as a breeze, his other hand holding the back of your neck, or your bicep, perhaps even your hand just to make sure you're there, with him.
Jason would both hush you gently, "I know, sweetheart, we're almost done.", and also tease because he's a little shit at heart, "If you had a little more awareness than a ten year old this wouldn't have happened, idiot."
And physical touches? Oh, love, Jason is a sucker for intimacy.
I know for a fact he wouldn't be comfortable for a long time with anyone in his personal space due to the torture he went through. The trauma would make his skin crawl any time someone got too close or brushed past him, he'd hate it so much because it makes him weak but also because he can't let anyone try to hug him without feeling sick to his stomach.
And with you it's no different. It would take a long time, a lot of trust being built up, conflict and confessions, maybe he'd even open up to you with his head on your lap as you brushed his hair softly, a big, big step for him after years of not letting anyone close. He'd tell you about the Joker, about having hope in Bruce, about his biological mother. And he'd feel vulnerable like a child when you wipe his tears gently without a word.
Once he starts craving your touch, though, regardless if you two have a platonic or romantic relationship, Jason is putty in your hands. Forehead kisses when you part ways, cuddling on the couch while he reads and you're on your phone, thighs touching when sitting close, even a little bit of hand holding when he's stressed and needs to play with your fingers.
He's like a big cat that's constantly making his way onto your chest, stealing your breath and making biscuits on your skin, making sure you're giving him sufficient pats every day.
It's a little part of him that he's barely able to properly allow space for. There's still so much hurt in Jason, so much confusion and desperation, hatred and upset, that he'd probably still close off sometimes, try acting tough so you'd see how fucked up he is, how he's not truly worth of your love.
And yet.
And yet all it'd take for him to go soft and pliant in your hands would be a single touch, cupping his cheeks, brushing his skin softly with your thumbs, right under his pretty emerald eyes, making sure his gaze is on you and only you. Just like that, he'd slump his shoulders and bring you into his arms, breathing a sigh of relief and squeezing you close, your heartbeats synching.
He wouldn't remember when he started feeling safest in your arms but it'd feel like it was since forever. Like there was no one else but you.
Jason was made to be loved, though he is a little broken and a little tainted, lost like a child and hateful like a sinner, your love might just be his salvation, something he's greedy for, selfish for, even when he's so hesitant of somehow hurting you.
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oh-stars · 2 months
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Bated Breath
Love is being able to say you’re sorry and mean it.
a @steddielovemonth prompt | 1373 words |  CW: light angst, mentions of cheating | Rating: T  
--
They’re not perfect. Steve never claimed to be, even if Eddie always joked about how perfect King Steve Harrington was, and he never assumed Eddie was either. They’re human and Steve knows better than anyone how cruel and unforgiving even the kindest people could be. What matters is they try, really try, to understand one another and work together. 
But sometimes, it feels like Steve’s the only one trying. 
It’s been three years together now, three fantastic years, and Steve has loved every second of it. Even the nasty fights, the bouts of depression, the long recovery days where their bodies won’t cooperate, and the lows of life that have come and gone in the meantime; all of it. He adores Eddie, truly, and would go to the ends of the earth for this man, but at the end of the day, it can’t all fall on him. 
Not for this. 
Steve leans against the door, elbow perched through the open window and a hand in his hair as the wind flows through it. The chill of the breeze is nice, cooling Steve’s temper the longer he drives mindlessly around. He’s circling the city, taking back roads and winding around suburbs until his gas tank or his mind is drained. Whichever comes first. 
They’ve fought before but never like this. Steve fights with everyone, it’s how he bonds with people. Little debates turned into childish fights between him and Dustin or teasing Robin until she hit him in jest. And that’s how he and Eddie clicked, between bonding over their mutual exhaustion about Dustin and bickering over the tiniest of issues for the sake of arguing. It was innocent and for the most part, Steve knew where the line was and would deescalate before they got close. Sure a stray comment or two would pass it, but he was always quick to apologize, to make things right. 
When they were still in Hawkins, living separately, there would be one fight a month-ish. Something minor that turned big because of outside issues or sour moods – or nerves hit blindly. They’d take some time to feel and then they’d come back to one another. 
But without fail, Steve apologized first. 
And now that they live together, that trend continues. Something happens, Steve apologizes. It’s more noticeable now that they’re fighting a bit more frequently, especially as they learn how to be around one another twenty-four seven and meshing their lifestyles together. So he gives them a little grace, he takes the first step to be the bigger man. If there’s anything Steve’s good at is apologizing when he’s wrong, when he needs to. 
Not this time. 
He tugs at his hair a little, then drops his hand to hang out the window and play in the wind. There’s no music playing, his own thoughts too loud to hear if there was any on. Steve’s eyes flick from the road to the tiny clock on his dash that he can barely read with the setting sun. He’s been driving for three hours already, just… out. 
It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, really. It didn’t have to be. Eddie just… He doesn’t think sometimes, Steve knows. His mouth works double speed and then panics when his brain catches up. Robin does the same, he gets it. But at the end of the day, he crossed the line. He hurt Steve. 
“You’re being an idiot,” Steve sighs to himself as he turns the car around, heading toward their apartment in the city. It’s true, he’s throwing a tantrum over something small, but… Eddie reopened an old wound that time hasn’t fully healed. 
The drive back isn’t long enough. 
Steve parks in the lot and grabs his jacket and keys. He closes the door and– 
“Steve?” Eddie’s leaning over the railing of their balcony, concern and surprise twisted on his face. There’s a burning cigarette in between his fingers and he’s wearing a pair of Steve’s sweats, nothing else. His hair is tied up, but nearly coming undone all around him. He darts back inside before Steve can call up to him. 
He locks his car, dips and heads toward the elevator up to their floor. Steve’s leaning against the wall next to the elevator when the doors to the stairwell bursts open. 
Eddie’s sprinting toward him, barefoot and shirtless, arms pumping at his sides. He slides to a stop on the rough carpet so fast Steve’s worried he’s going to have carpet burn on the soles of his feet. “You’re back,” Eddie pants, eyes so wide and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He drops his hands when he tries to reach out, shoving them into his pockets instead. 
Steve nods, but doesn’t give him more than that. It’s petty, childish even, but Steve’s not perfect. 
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. “It was careless of me to– There’s no excuse.” 
“Okay,” Steve says, crossing his arms. Something in his face must say to continue if the way Eddie shifts and straightens says anything. Guess they’re doing this here. 
Eddie takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair, pulling strands out of the bun even more. “I was an idiot. I– Your birthday is coming up,” Eddie starts, emphasizing with his hands, “and you came home early today, which is fantastic! I love that! But I wasn’t expecting it and I panicked, right? Because I’ve been working hard on this and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“So instead of telling me you’re working on a gift,” Steve says slowly, “you made it seem like you were cheating on me?” 
He winces and his face goes bright red. “Did I mention I’m an idiot?” He rubs at his face and groans. “I don’t know why I thought you would think it was funny. It’s so far from funny. I guess I just– To me,” Eddie says, hand pressed to his chest, “cheating on you would be worse than murdering someone. I could never hurt you like that, would never want to. My heart just isn’t built like that, Stevie. My love for you is all consuming and everything I could ever want. You’re my everything and I just–” 
Eddie sighs and his shoulders fall as he hunches in on himself. “I guess I thought it was obvious I would never cheat on you. I didn’t even think of it as a real possibility and that’s so stupid of me, because of course you wouldn’t see it that way.” 
“Eddie,” Steve says with a sigh. 
“I know,” Eddie says, “it doesn’t make any sense. I just needed to buy a few more minutes before you saw your gift early. I regret ever saying anything, I do. And not just because you’re mad at me,” he adds quickly, “but because I know how your mind works and you’re going to be scrutinizing everything now.” 
Eddie takes a small step forward and reaches out for Steve. Steve lets him, leaning into the touch, letting Eddie cup his cheek. “I’ll show you every day just how serious I am about us, Stevie. If you’ll give me the chance to show how much I love you, how devoted I truly am to you, how fucking sorry I am for putting those doubts in your head. For all of it.” 
“I’m still mad at you,” Steve whispers, before he kisses Eddie’s palm. “But you can make it up to me.” 
“I’ll do anything.” 
“Let’s start with a massage and go from there,” Steve says as he hits the button for the elevator. 
Eddie holds his hand the whole ride up. They’re not perfect, Steve doesn’t want to be, but they do try their best. When they get inside the apartment, Steve pulls Eddie in for a hug, not for Eddie but himself. He slips into the comfort, the ease of his love, and breathes him in. His brain isn’t kind to him, going over everything with a microscope, but at least it quiets as he holds Eddie close. 
He lets out a deep breath, exhaling most of his anxieties. When he inhales, all he can smell is Steve’s favorite candle that always makes him feel better and Eddie. 
--
Thank you @lady-lostmind!
Ao3 Link
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autistichalsin · 2 months
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My case for Halsin x Art Cullagh as a ship
First of all, these are two characters with a LOT in common. Both are intimately tied to the Shadow Curse. Both lost everything because of it: Halsin lost his homeland and Thaniel, while Art lost (temporarily) his sanity and would eventually lose his life to it.
Both care very deeply for Thaniel (and, later, Oliver). Thaniel was Halsin's first friend, who "made (Halsin) who (he) is today", while Thaniel helped Art in the Shadowfell. Thaniel played with both of them. Both of them felt protective- one might say paternal- towards Thaniel. Art tells the player that Thaniel is a sweet soul- too sweet for the Shadowfell- and he can't wait for the player to meet him.
Both are kind, gentle souls with a strong sense of justice and a call to do right in the world- Halsin by fighting against threats like the Shadow Curse and the Absolute, Art by being a Flaming Fist.
The link through Thaniel is strong (and not just in the "Thaniel has two daddies" sense). Thaniel tells Art about Halsin; Art repeatedly says that Thaniel told him that only Halsin can save him, that Thaniel "spoke of little else".
After being comatose for who knows how long, when Art startles awake and calls out for Thaniel, the first person he sees- and the first person to speak to him- is Halsin. Halsin, who instantly kneels to softly, kindly tell him to relax and breathe- a heartwarming way to be introduced to someone (and indeed, the devnotes say, "warm. Good bedside manner.") As soon as Halsin mentions that he too wants to help Thaniel, Art recognizes him, saying in shock (perhaps amazement?) "You're... you're Halsin," before repeating his request that Halsin find Thaniel. Which Halsin instantly agrees to, but repeats that he needs Art's help, and Art gives it.
When the curse is lifted, Halsin tells the player how sad he is to be leaving Thaniel's realm, how he hopes Thaniel and Oliver will stay as a pair because then they can have a friend after he's gone... clearly missing them, but knowing he has a greater mission in stopping the Absolute. What does Art say if you talk to him in the act 2 epilogue? That he feels Thaniel should have someone with him when he wakes, so he's staying. One might even argue that Art staying is the reason Halsin felt so comfortable leaving- sad, yes, but not worried. He knew Thaniel and Oliver were in good hands with Art. He trusted the two halves of his best friend to Art.
Art knows, tragically, that he's going to die soon after. He mentions it to the player, and in the epilouge, he sends this note to the player:
To an old acquaintance, I write to you from the sunny porch of the Last Light Inn. A light breeze blows now and then. People are milling in and out - builders, visitors, the children of all ages in Halsin's care. I can no longer hold a quill, or eat without assistance - a kind friend is transcribing this for me. Thaniel, re-joined with Oliver, has promised to be with me when the end comes, and as our old songs drift on the wind, ever louder, I know I have mere days left. But I do not fear it. If not for your help, this land would still be shrouded in darkness, and I'd still be lost within it. Know that my heart is full and happy, and I am grateful for my last moments. Do visit some day. And if you have time to stop by an old Flaming Fist's grave, I know I'd love to see you. Art Cullagh
Halsin and Art are still in contact. Art lived long enough to get to see Reithwin being reconstructed- by Halsin. Halsin lifted his shadow, Thaniel and Oliver's shadow, and brought Art peace during his last days- including the peace of having his close friends with him as the end comes. And presumably, Halsin himself stays- it's hard to imagine that Halsin, of all people, wouldn't.
They just work really well as a tragic ship, brought together by loss and heartbreak.
Fittingly, that extends into scenarios when one of them dies. If Halsin dies before act 2, or dies when the portal collapses, and the player tells Art this, he is heartbroken- while he frames it primarily in terms of being sad the curse can never be broken now, he must also be sad that Thaniel's friend has been lost, too.
And if Art dies (either because Last Light fell or for some other reason) and the player learns what they need from Art's corpse? Well.... let's just say that Halsin has some VERY strong things to say for someone he barely knows.
Halsin: That is what I needed to know. It should be cause for joy, but... that poor man didn't have to die.
Player: His existence was worse than death. Now he's at peace, and we have what we need.
Halsin: True. But are we still deserving? Only time and nature can tell.
To think that he might not be worthy any longer of breaking the Shadow Curse because a man he barely knows died is.... quite an intense emotion. Almost illogical, and Halsin is an extremely reasonable person. Make of that what you will.
Alternatively:
Player: There was no other way.
Halsin: You can claim it so... but I don't think it will ever be true. Oak Father willing, we will soon lift the curse from this place. But I suspect a shadow will linger here, because of what was done to that man.
Again... these are VERY intense emotions. Understandably so, of course- Art was clearly Thaniel's friend, and he suffered so much only to die. But if Last Light falls, MANY people die besides Art, yet Halsin is focused on him- the only other person he mentions with quite this much grief is Isobel, and even she doesn't get a mention from him here. "A shadow will linger here, because of what was done to that man"? Not "what was done to those people" or even "what was done to Art and the others"? It is.... a very interesting way of phrasing it.
In conclusion: Halsin cares Art A LOT, Art deserves peace and happiness, and Thaniel and Oliver deserve two daddies. Flaming Bear is the ultimate tragic doomed ship and we are sleeping on this ship
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luvendiary · 2 years
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All I Feel is You
Percy Jackson x Reader summary: Being a daughter of Hecate means having a lot of strengths, however you are not invincible and people often seem to forget that, with the exception of a certain sea-green-eyed boy
a/n: was this requested? no. did is still decide to make this? obviously. i've been meaning to write for percy for a while, so here it is. i hope you enjoy. also, i have this hc that hecate only has daughters. let me know what you think! <3
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Being a daughter of Hecate had its perks. For instance, you were doted in the ways of medicine, much like the Apollo kids, you complimented each other in that way. Their powers diminished at night, while yours grew stronger and viceversa. Your magic covered various areas, those including earth, heavens and oceans as well as your specialty: shape shifting. Having such a wide range of domain, Hecate kids were often asked for favors and help around camp. It was needless to say that Hecate kids were a beloved asset around camp.
Sometimes, you took privilege in these favors, and asked Chiron for certain liberties, like skipping a lesson or activity. Or even being able to stay out past curfew, (without any of the other campers knowing, of course).
As of right now, you were using one of your ‘favor passes’ as you liked to call them, as you sat out in the Delphi’s Strawberry Fields, allowing the cool summer breeze blow through your hair. Your shoes had been discarded so that you could dig your toes in the soil.
The Battle of Manhattan had taken place a few days ago, and people were still mourning the loss of their loved ones. You were no indifferent to loss, you had lost some of your sisters, and while you would love to be mourning with the ones that remained, it was better for you to do it alone.
Being a daughter of Hecate had its perks, however, being a daughter of Hecate brought complicated feelings in times like this. Being a daughter of Hecate meant you could see and feel other people’s ‘magic’, something that mortals knew as ‘aura’. And during the aftermath of the Battle, there wasn’t a surplus of beautiful magic. A somber atmosphere covered the camp, and while it never completely left, it seemed to dissipate at night. Maybe it was the cruelness of hope that manifested itself in dreams, giving people a brief moment of contentment, as they fantasized that their loved ones hadn’t been lost, and that when they woke up, everything would still be like it was a few days prior.
Amidst your contemplation, the sound of rustling leaves could be heard. You knew who it was, he was the only person that ever came out here at night. Mostly because he didn’t care for the curfew.
He didn’t say anything, he just sat next to you and stared up at the stars.
“How are you doing?” you asked after a few minutes of silence.
“I am,” Percy replied.
“I think that’s what we all are,” you said.
Silence once again.
“You’re not looking at the stars tonight,” he said.
“It’s hard right now. Especially tonight, or any other night since it happened.”
You both didn’t dare to say exactly what happened. It was in the past as of right now, and maybe in the future it would become a part of the present, so that it didn’t repeat itself. But as of right now, it was too hard to bear.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
You sighed and brought your knees up to your chest, “I guess it just feels wrong. I think they are my stars tonight, I have to look at them just in case they crash and burn. It’s been rough for all of us.”
Percy nodded. He might not understand you completely, but that was what your relationship with him was like. He was there for you no matter what, and most of the time you comprehended each other without even talking, and when you didn’t being with each other was enough.
For the first time since he joined you, you looked at him. His aura contained a little blue, however it faded into grey as it progressed towards the edges. You stared at him, analyzing the change in color that his magic had had these past days.
“You can stop lookin at my jello, or whatever you call it.”
“Jello is a new one. You’re getting creative with the names. Care to explain it?”
“It’s because I’m in it, and it’s kind of like I’m suspended inside. Or that’s what I imagine it looks like to you at least.”
“That would make you jello too.”
“I think being jello would be fun.”
His magic flickered for an instance, tinting itself in a light shade of orange and yellow. You smiled before looking back at the camp.
“I wish I could see your magic,” Percy said.
“Trust me, you don’t.”
“I just wish I could do the same for you that you do for me.”
You chuckled, the sound came out more bitter than you had intended, “That’s a burden me and my sisters bare. Mom had to find a way to balance out all the perks.”
Percy stared at you, “I may not be able to see magic Y/N. But some other things are clear to see, you can let go, just for a while if you’d like to, we can even stay here forever if that’s what you need.”
You tried. You really tried to remain silent, but as you listened to him a choked sob escaped your throat. Someone with your ability was usually in charge of comforting everyone, you were supposed to even take in those negative emotions, however, you never realized the toll it was taking on you until it was too late.
Percy scooted closer to you and wrapped his arms around you as he cradled your body. He led your head up to his chest and comfortingly ran his calloused hands along your back. He didn’t say anything, he just allowed you to let out everything you had been holding on to up until now.
“I’m- I’m so- sorry,” you said in between sobs.
Percy shushed you and kept on rubbing your back, “You don’t have to apologize. You’re safe here.”
And you truly believed him, you allowed yourself to completely let go while in his arms. Amidst a world full of chaos you could always count on the sea-green-eyed boy to bring you comfort. Even when the world had collapsed, your home was still standing as long as he was.
Percy watches as you relaxed in his arms, you let loose, and something wonderful happened. He saw as a soft colorful light emanated from you. It started with a bright pink and faded into indigo. He smiled and whispered a soft ‘thank you’. He knew you wouldn’t be able to hear it, but you would feel it, just as he felt you.
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the-words-we-sung · 4 months
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The songs of Young Royals - S1 E1
So after a few re-watch I started noticing how well the songs are used in the show and I wanted to chat a little bit about it ^^ (Because I'm usually watching alone with my cat and he doesn't really care about my opinions on how awesome the show is at picking its songs :p So hopefully people here will be more interested!!)
Bad, Farveblind
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I think it's wrong I think it's bad I think it's lame I think it's horrible The song starts when we see Wilhelm at the club where he gets in a fight and then we get the chorus through his earbuds in the car (note: I love it when a show put a music in the background that ends up being something a character is actually listening to in the scene!!). He just got out of a shitty situation which will have huge repercussions on his life and his mother is making decisions about his life without asking him: the show is not subtle about telling us how "wrong" and "bad" it is. And despite this lil' foreshadowing (the song plays before Minou tells Wille about his mother's decisions) and Wilhelm's strong opinion against them, it's still gonna happen. Going to a boarding school is "lame" (or so Wilhelm thinks) and the whole situation is "horrible". And yeah, it's gonna suck on a lot of points, but it's also gonna change his life...
Wannabee Ghetto, Fata Boom
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... Keep up the front like it's your decision ... Look our best Covering up what we're missin It's literally what Wilhelm has to do now. His mother decided for him that he should change school and enroll at Hillerska, he is not happy about this plan but has to pretend he's okay with it. He just lied to the public that it was a decision he took part in. He is the prince, even if he's not (yet) the Crown Prince, and he has an image to maintain. An image that was damaged due to the video of the fight: someone is literally putting make up on him to "cover up" the marks of the fight so he can look his "best". And what is he missing? Well August will say it at least twice: he doesn't have the same drive as him or Erik. So he's missing the desire to be on top, to be king, to keep the status quo...
It takes a fool to remain sane, The Ark
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... Wasn't life supposed to be more than this ... Let go off my hand and it will slip on the sand If you don't give me the chance To break down the walls of attitude I ask nothing of you, not even your gratitude 'Cause it takes a fool to remain sane ... Of becoming like the others Who become unhappy mothers And fathers of unhappy kids This song!! Such a great choice for their first song <3 Wilhelm being so incredibly unhappy and stuck because "being a prince is a privilege, not a punishment" but he wants more for his life. It is supposed to be "more than this", more than pressure and appearance. The song going on with the "unhappy mothers / unhappy kids" while we follow Erik and Wilhelm stiffly posing for pictures outside. How can Wilhelm not be scared? Is it the life that awaits him? Always keeping a nice front, not being himself?And why is that? 'Cause they've forgotten how to play But Erik and Wilhelm haven't forgotten yet!! Right after these lyrics we have a playful Erik who suggests they take off in the middle of the photo-shoot! And they do!! So there's hope for them!!
I see you, Nadia Tehran
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Back to their bases Covering their faces Tones through the breeze yeah The power calls crises Round my crowd No cops allowed Interestingly the song starts with "you ain't welcome here, you don't look like us". This part is not in the show but works so well for Wilhelm starting at Hillerska. He's getting hazed by his peers "covering their faces" and being really rough with him (this hazing is so yucky, I struggle watching it every time ^^'), and he's welcome here because he's the prince, because he's supposed to be part of their world. But he's not gonna be like them. Do they know it already? "You don't look like us", and thanks god for that!! (And yup, "no cops allowed", right August? You can do whatever you want here without any consequences...)
Blah blah blah, Armin van Buuren
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All we ever hear from you is blah blah blah So all we ever do is go ja ja ja And we don't even care about what they say The song plays while August is talking to Wilhelm about being among his peers and criticizing him for wanting to be "normal" at his previous school. I love that this song is playing because, yes, it's a good party song, but also, it's probably what everyone watching the show is thinking when August is being an insufferable prick like that! And Wilhelm too, who just usually goes "ja ja ja / yes yes yes" to what August tells him (until he stops and finally goes openly against him, but for now in the show, he just listens and nods). Erik told him he should listen and trust August, so he listens to him. But at this moment Simon appears, and suddenly Wilhelm "don't even care about what they say" because the cute boy he already has a big crush on just arrived. And August and his stupid speeches about rich people being above everyone else don't matter anymore.
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woojungz · 5 months
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how xikers would confess to you! 🍃💐
❝ xikers x gn!reader
𓂃𓈒 this is part 1. members included: minjae, junmin, sumin, jinsik, hyunwoo. i will make a part 2 soon with the rest of the other members (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆
( likes and reblogs appreciated!♡ )
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✧𓂃𓈒MINJAE.
you met him through your dance troupe from school. he was a year older than you, and everyone else admired him for his dependable and leader-like qualities. everyone loves him to the point that your cute puppy love towards him goes unnoticed. it's just normal for people to love minjae that much at your school.
but then suddenly during practice everyone was sad, it's because minjae's gonna be graduating soon. it's never gonna be the same without him in the troupe. you started to brush off your feelings for him, and planned to give him a small little goodbye just like everyone else. until he asked you to stay after class because he wanted to show you something.
and inside your heart was beating really fast, cuz why the hell would your crush ask you to stay after everyone has left. you were starting to think he was mad at you (for absolutely no reason?!) until he told you he wants to show you some dance he made.
at first it was just him dancing while you cheered him on (he told you it was some new choreography he practiced last weekend). you were caught off guard when he suddenly grabs your hand and makes you dance with him! you got shy at first, but as time passed by, you were having fun with minjae, freestyling moves and whatnot.
once you guys got tired, the both of you just sat down on some corner to drink water and refresh. the silence was broken by minjae, asking you if you wanted to go to han river with him to hang out for awhile. you knew he loved it there, one of his favorite hangout spots with junmin (a really close friend of his). so when he invited you to go, it was probably the hundredth time your heart beat really fast for the day…
he brings you to han river after buying a few snacks, then resting at a lone bench beside some tree. it was really quiet, except for the cool breeze and the distant sound of other people around the area. you were caught out of your daze when minjae suddenly took your hand in his. of course you looked at him, wide-eyed.
"minjae…?"
"you know how much this place means a lot to me right?" minjae asks you, and you nod in return.
"i think it's the best place for me to tell you how special you are to me. i'm not gonna beat around the bush anymore, i really like you, y/n."
you were almost speechless, but thankfully you managed to atleast nod at him. embarrassingly stuttering out words, telling him you reciprocate his feelings, and that you really really like him too.
let's just say han river became your usual hanging out spot once you guys became a couple♡
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✧𓂃𓈒JUNMIN.
your dog was one peculiar creature, the moment you step foot outside, the little cutie wouldn't stop sniffing every single thing around him. when you finally managed to bring your dog to the park, you sigh in relief. surely he would wanna explore now since you guys were in an open space. but no, apparently some random bush was far more interesting than whatever else was at the park.
until you were suprised when a brown fluffy poodle approached your pup. it was collared, your sight following its leash until you lock eyes with a guy in a cozy sweater.
"kong!! don't go running into random dogs out of nowhere!"
you assumed kong was the name of the friendly dog that approached yours.
"no don't worry! it's completely alright, i think my dog could use a few friends anyway, everytime i walk him, he doesn't even move an inch and keeps smelling things!"
"well, looks like the both of them are getting along. oh, junmin's the name by the way!"
he introduces himself, and soon you follow, beginning a small talk between each other as your dogs mingled along. the conversation must've been so good that junmin didn't realize his grip on the leash loosened, and kong suddenly bolts, your dog following suit.
"kong!!!!"
the both of you didn't expect to be caught in a chase real quick, and even if those dogs were quite small, they're still pretty damn fast. after a few minutes of running around the park, your pets grew tired, finally. so that's how you find yourself beside junmin sitting on the unoccupied swings, your dog sleeping soundly on your lap.
that meeting was the first of many as you continued hanging out with junmin everytime you walk your dog at the park. leading to meet ups where you guys bought pet treats, cute clothes for your dogs, and even left them at a doggy daycare for the rest of the day so you guys can hang out alone with each other.
another day passes, the sky clear. as usual, you were with junmin again, but he looked like he was in deep thought. so you asked him if something was bothering him, staring at the way he takes a deep breath before staring right at your eyes. some otherworldly force must've been helping him, suddenly no one else was around this area of the park. he cheers for himself inside, he can do it. a perfect moment as your two dogs are busy playing with each other at a corner.
"y/n, we've been hanging out with each other for quite some time now. i really got to know you well these past months, and i really enjoy spending time with you."
junmin starts, avoiding your gaze. he can't see it, but you smile at him. "me too junmin, i really enjoy your company."
"well, i don't wanna dwell on it much anymore. so i'm just gonna say it. y/n, you mean a lot to me, and… and i like you alot—"
you were about to take a step closer to him until kong parks his butt right at junmin's feet, and suddenly starts pissing all over him, a loud screech resounding throughout the park.
"kong!!!!!"
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✧𓂃𓈒SUMIN.
you wanted a change of pace for now, so you decided it would be nice to take tours of the different art galleries in your city. all was going well, when after a few trips to different galleries… you started to notice this one dude with a very striking fashion sense. as the coincidences of you guys visiting the same galleries at the same time continue, you really can't help but notice him. i mean, who wouldn't turn their head towards someone wearing a bunch of layered clothing with different patterns and textures—but somehow still make it work.
one day, you finally knew what to call him. sumin, he says, officially became your unofficial tour buddy as you continue to plan a lot more trips for next time. that's how you find out what a surprisingly chill guy he is, a huge contrast to how he dresses. sumin had mentioned his daily life consisted of making art, paintings, lounging around parks, and of course, visiting art galleries.
"it's honestly kinda boring though." sumin stares off at a distance as he stirs some of the hot chocolate he had ordered at this cafe you chose to rest at for awhile, after a long session of looking at paintings and whatnot.
"boring?! i'd kill to have a life like that. i only go to art galleries as some kind of escape from my hectic schedules,"
you continue to rant as sumin listens carefully. this was the cycle for about a long time, enough for sumin to know almost every single thing about you now. so does his feelings for you grow by time. he only ever comes around to check out pretty paintings, but instead he's found someone like you, the prettiest he's ever met. just as how unpredictable he was, you weren't expecting him to tell you his feelings anytime soon.
starting the day as usual, you guys meet up at another art gallery that just opened, somewhere beyond the city you reside in. you were quite excited about this one, having seen how popular it got on the internet that you just have to really see it for yourself. as you walk around the gallery, stopping by each painting to tell a bunch of stuff you've read about it to sumin, you can't miss the way he intensely looks at you, his eyes tracing your own up until he's scanned your whole face. honestly it was kind of odd, but you brushed it off. he must've been trying to focus, seeing the way he scribbles on to the paper really hard.
"it's really interesting right?" you ask, totally oblivious to whatever sumin was doing.
"yeah, totally."
an hour passes and you reach the exit of the gallery, but sumin still seems to be busy with his damn paper…
"dude… i literally stopped talking like fifteen minutes ago, what could you possibly be taking notes of. like i get that the paintings were interesting, but were they really that interesting for you to keep writing until—"
sumin finally hands you the piece of paper. you flip it over, your eyes widening before looking back up at him.
"you did this?!" he only replies with a hum, flashing you that cute smile of his.
you couldn't help but feel your heart warm at the sight, all this time he was sketching a beautiful portrait of you. it doesn't look polished, the strokes were the kind of messy that worked together. despite the lack of color, the ink of his pen was enough to convey the way he sees you through his eyes. suddenly your gaze flickers towards the bottom of the page, a little scribble of handwriting made by sumin
i like you, y/n <3
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✧𓂃𓈒JINSIK.
finals were nearing, spending most of your days at the cafe near your university. even before, you loved to hang out here, to the point that the baristas already recognize you as a regular. it's just that these days, you were needing coffee more than usual, or else you won't survive by the end of the semester.
so when you order the 'usual' this afternoon, you weren't expecting such a different flavor to meet your tongue, fighting not to spit it out and make a scene. internally you were asking yourself what went wrong, approaching your barista friends to ask them if they accidentally gave you the wrong order. but your name was on the cup, so that couldn't be the case, right?
instead, you found out that a newly hired barista made your order. 'jinsik' he introduces himself, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down at the floor. and boy did you really forget about the bad drink the moment you laid your eyes on him.
thank god you were able to blink yourself free from the stare you held on him, he's quite literally the most charming barista you've ever seen around here. once he finds out he messed up your order, he apologizes cutely… almost bows to the floor but you stop him.
ever since then, he makes it a point to leave messages on your cup. he's so sweet really, he found out that you were hanging out here for longer because you're studying for your finals. leaves cute messages that cheers you on for the rest of your study time :(
eventually he finally mixes your drinks really well. you often stay during weekends, sometimes staying until the cafe closes, this is usually the time where no one really orders or comes in. jinsik takes it as a chance to leave the counter and sit around with you while you study (mostly just him distracting you because how could you not devote your full attention to someone like him?!)
by the day of your finals, you make one last stop by the cafe to get a drink for the morning.
"hey, y/n! d-day right? there's this drink i've been seeing around everywhere, i heard it's mixed with ingredients that are good for focus. want me to make it for you?"
you curiously agree, taking the cup from him once he's had it done. taking a sip from the drink, your eyes widen because it's a flavor you recognize, something you've brought up with him before, and he remembered it :(
but you wonder how the hell he made it taste so good, taking a peek at the sticker on the cup that showed the drink add-ons. strangely there was none, turning the cup around until you see his message scribbled with a marker.
i like you y/n♡ let's hang out after your exams, yeah? early celebration bc i know you'll ace it!
you can't help but feel your cheeks heat up at his words, he wasn't even saying it directly to you, but your heart feels like it's gonna jump out of your chest. you immediately look for him, spotting him behind the counter, already looking at you fondly with a smile on his face :(
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✧𓂃𓈒HYUNWOO.
it was the most awaited night of all time, your school's prom night. everything was perfect, from your outfit, and your friends that are coming with you. but as the event dragged on, your friends wanted to go on their own ways and spend time with their dates. personally you didn't mind, they'd already brought it up before, and you were completely fine with it.
as you sit by the snacks and drinks, you begin to wonder if you should've taken the time to ask your long-time crush to be your date for prom night. hyunwoo, his name was, the main vocalist of your school band that was quite popular with the students. to you he was just the coolest, especially when he sings everytime they perform. but because of that, you assumed that there must be other people that were already hitting on him too. he probably already has a date, someone much better than you, even.
you silently sulk at the corner, busying yourself with the cup of fruit punch you grabbed awhile ago. that was until someone announced through the microphone for everyone to gather by the stage. hyunwoo's band was performing, of course you rushed towards the crowd that also came to watch. right, not only was he gonna be busy with his date for tonight, they were also preparing to perform. must've been why you weren't able to see him around the moment you step foot in here.
and they begin, the band playing their original song. well, it was the perfect song for couples, everyone linking up with their dates to slow dance with each other, making you feel out of place. you left your spot at the middle. forget about watching hyunwoo sing at the stage. you disappear at the back of the crowd, hand still holding the cup of punch from awhile ago. the ice had already melted, you didn't even bother to drink it, probably tasted bad already. just like how you felt watching everyone dance with their partners, you would be lying if you said you weren't jealous at all.
though you decided to distract yourself for awhile, you can't help but think about hyunwoo while you were alone. i mean, his voice is literally the only thing you can hear from the speakers right now. every single line he sings, you can't help but look back on your memories with him. he was one of your close friends, sometimes you guys spend afternoons alone, by the bleachers or maybe helping him with some songwriting and practice. minutes pass by, the band was done, but hyunwoo's voice suddenly saying your name through the microphone caught your attention.
"this song is actually dedicated to someone who's very close to me. y/n, if you're listening, i want you to know that i really really like you."
the crowd suddenly cheers, the band taking their time to leave the stage. at the back, the stage lights were blinding to you. you can't really see hyunwoo. not until you hear a shout of your name, turning to meet his eyes.
"y/n. you're here! i was looking for you everywhere, i wasn't able to see you among the crowd." he begins, panting a bit as he ran from the stage towards where you are.
you weren't able to stop him from suddenly dragging you outside, right at the garden of the venue. it was only the two of you here, sounds of the crickets were doing a little bit to ease your nervousness.
"um, i really enjoyed your performance awhile ago." you began, staring up at his eyes.
"of course, i practiced really hard… for you."
hyunwoo takes your hand in his, fingers tangling with each other. "hyunwoo, i really like you too. a lot."
he blushed at the statement, the both of you avoiding each other's gaze. there was a moment of silence that fell upon the both of you, but your linked hands weren't budging at all. until you hear the faint start of a song from the venue, still quite loud even though you were at the garden.
"want to dance with me y/n? i wasn't able to be with you awhile ago." you weren't able to say no, facing him as he rests a gentle hand on you waist, looking straight into your eyes as the both of you begin a slow rhythm of dancing to the song. it was the best ending you could ever ask for, officially sealing the endless pining the both of you endured, the perfect night made under the dozens of stars and the cozy moonlight.
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