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#you and your friendship means so much to me
say-al0e · 2 days
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Cling
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Rating: M | This is smut! Minors, DNI! No one under 18!
Summary: For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much. Warnings: Unprotected PinV, oral (f!receiving), blink and you'll miss it angst. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Words: 5.5k
Though the sun had long disappeared, dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and reds hours ago, the scent of artificial coconut and chlorine lingered as you lounged beside the Harrington pool.
The kids disappeared with Eddie the moment the sky tinted pink, off to finish a campaign they spent much of the day discussing, and Robin followed soon after with a weak excuse designed to hide her true destination of Vicky’s house - despite the fact that you all knew.
That left you and Steve, always the last two standing.
Steve stretched out on a lounge chair to your left - sunglasses resting atop his head, t-shirt forgotten somewhere in the backyard, garishly patterned swim trunks resting low on his hips. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling evenly, though you knew he was far from sleep.
Regardless, you took the chance to study him in the rare moment of silence.
The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were tinted pink, not burned enough to cause concern but clearly effected by his time in the sun. His hair was wild and beginning to curl, free of gel and still a little damp from his last dip in the pool. The weeks of swimming, back in the pool where he spent so much time growing up, had toned his arms - his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs - and you could see the result of his resumed habits so clearly.
A swath of hair covered his chest, tapered into a faint line that disappeared into the band of his trunks, and you were struck by just how many times you’d been here - sitting to his right, smelling of chlorine and coconut. Over a decade of friendship, more than half your life, and you’d witnessed Steve go from a lanky boy to a confident twenty-something. 
Moments like this reminded you of why your best friend was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Hawkins and why, somewhere along the line, you joined the long list of those desperate for him to give you the time of day.
Only, you were lucky enough to be one of the few that had Steve’s full attention. There was little question that he knew everything - nearly everything, not this, never this - there was to know about you. Even less of a question that you would be sharing his bed later on, though not in the way you’d secretly started to want.
“Quit starin’ at me, creep.” Steve’s voice came then, before you could begin to spiral and question whether you could handle another night of sleeping beside him - wrapped in his embrace, his sheets, his scent - and you hummed.
“Just seeing if I need to get the aloe,” you teased, hoping it sounded as light as you meant it. “Should’ve listened to me, when I told you to put on sunscreen.”
Steve laughed. “You mean I should’ve sat still while you attacked me with it. I would’ve, if you’d given me some warning. Not nice to just start mauling a guy.”
“I know you dream about me mauling you.” The deflection was easy, reflexive, and accompanied by a laugh that rang a touch hollow in your own ears but Steve huffed, good-natured, anyway.
“Hm. Think that’s the other way around.” He cracked open an eye, then, and turned his head to glance at you while you reached for his half-empty beer in an effort to avoid meeting his eyes.
“Please,” you scoffed, though it was weaker than you intended. “I can’t get you to stop touching me.”
Despite his upbringing - or, really, because of it - Steve sought physical affection in those closest to him. It was true that he hadn’t stopped touching you over the course of your friendship, hugs and holding hands and cuddling on the couch. There was never any hesitation, never any awkward shuffling or adjusting. It was as natural as breathing, comfortable, and lately, you savored every brush of his skin against yours.
Still, Steve waved a dismissive hand and reached for the pack of cigarettes he discarded on the table after the kids left. “Sure.” He lit one, fixed you with a teasing grin as he took a drag. “Easy for you to say when you’re the clingiest person I know.”
The observation was not unkind. If anything, it was soft - fond. It was a joke he’d made before, once or twice, but the label ‘clingy’ struck a nerve that he likely had no idea even existed. One that hadn’t existed until recently.
There was a conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear. It was Eddie, asking the kids if he had a chance - whether you and Steve were, you know, a thing - and their varying responses. He only asked because of how close you were, he explained, how often Steve had an arm around you or you clasped his hand in yours.
Someone, you didn’t catch who because the words rang harsh in your ears, dismissed his concerns with the dreaded refusal, “Just friends.” Though another followed it with, “I’d be annoyed if I were Steve. She’s always all over him and they’re not even dating. So clingy.”
Eddie laughed, as did the others, and you waited just beyond the door for a few moments to pretend that you hadn’t heard.
After, you tried to distance yourself, if only a little, without arousing Steve’s suspicions. Despite being called clueless, unobservant or even stupid, despite his difficulty connecting the dots, there was little about you that escaped his notice. It was difficult to create space when none had existed since you were children and, clearly, you hadn’t done a very good job, anyway.
“Yeah, well, I’ll unstick myself from your side.” You intended the quip to be teasing, a joke that earned you a laugh or a soft swat as you passed him by, but it came out wrong. The words were acidic, tasted bitter in the back of your throat as they rolled off your tongue, and you could see him wince from the sting of them as you stood from your chair. “I’m gonna go shower,” you deflected, unable to look at him. “Chlorine’s burning my eyes.”
Steve sat upright as you gathered your towel and discarded clothes, your empty soda can and the tube of tropical sunscreen. He stubbed out his cigarette and reached out, hand searching for yours and coming up empty for the first time in a long time.
“Wait,” he urged, rising to his feet as you busied yourself with removing any trace of your presence from the immediate vicinity. “Did I… what did I say? Whatever it was, I didn’t -“ His brows furrowed as he lifted the hand you avoided and carded it through his hair, sighing when you winced at the sound of his sunglasses clattering to the ground.
“You didn’t - it’s nothing.” Steve tipped his head, an attempt to catch your eye as you blinked back the stinging sensation - chlorine, really, and overwhelmed, traitorous tears. “Just tired.”
From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his face. He wore a concerned frown, warm eyes raking over your form as he recounted the last few moments, before he winced. “Oh. Shit. Hey, you know I’m joking,” he insisted, taking a half-step closer. And when you took a full step back, he frozen, uncertain - unused to the distance. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love it when you’re close to me. It’s nice. I’m not - that was a shitty thing to say.”
“It’s okay.” You waved him off, a dismissive hand held aloft for a moment before dropping to hold your towel close to your chest, and hoped he believed the crack in your voice was from the yelling you’d done earlier in the day. “It’s true, ’s’what everyone thinks, anyway.”
“What?” He looked confused, frown deepening as he tried again. He took a cautious step to close some of the distance and lifted a hand to reach out for you before thinking better of it. His hand fell to his side and you clutched the material in your arms tight to your chest to keep from reaching out yourself. “No one thinks that.”
“They do,” you confessed, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze as you forced a laugh. “They think it’s weird and sad and annoying that I’m, like, all over you. They think I’m, like, obsessed or something.” The admission was uttered casually, as easily as you could manage when your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest, and Steve took another tentative step forward.
“Who said that?”
Though it was phrased as a question, it came out a demand. His expression shifted, flickered from soft concern to annoyance - not at you, very rarely at you - as he waited.
“I overheard the kids joking about it,” you told him with a sigh. “And back when you were dating Nancy, Tommy and Carol said something. So did Billy. It didn’t bother me then ‘cause Tommy and Carol and Billy were morons, but now, well… Maybe they were right. I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so… attached.”
Steve stepped closer then, insistent despite your feeble attempt to keep the distance, and reached out for you. One warm, large hand fell to your waist, fingers finding bare skin still warm from the sun while the other cupped your cheek. He was patient, soft, as he encouraged you to meet his eyes once more.
“They were total morons. I’m honestly surprised they paid enough attention to someone else to notice,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at the memory of your former friends. “And the kids, they’re just kids. They don’t - don’t listen to them, alright. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying or sad or anything else. I think you’re my best friend and I like being close to you.”
Though it brought you comfort to hear how adamantly he denied thinking you were clingy - how adamantly he denied finding your constant presence annoying - the reminder that he only saw you as a friend did little to ease the roiling in the pit of your stomach. 
A fresh wave of traitorous tears stung at the backs of your eyes and you did your best to blink them away as you nodded. “Yeah,” you nodded, acknowledging him with a watery half-smile. “Okay.”
“Hey, I’m serious,” he asserted, dipping his head to search your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I want you close to me, like, all the time. Robin laughs at me but I don’t really know what to do when you’re not there. I like it when you hold my hand or sit on my lap. It… it makes me feel like you want me with you as much as I want to be with you.”
Though the lump in your throat persisted, though the tears still threatened to fall, you immediately reassured him. “Of course I want you to be with me. I love spending time with you.” You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into Steve’s touch. “It’s always been us.”
“Always has been, always will be,” he confirmed, smile soft but still a touch concerned. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his words for the first time in a long time, before he settled on asking, “What’s up, babe? Why’d it bother you so much?”
“It’s stupid.”
Immediately, Steve shook his head. He refused to allow you to wave it off, to dismiss the tease that clearly hurt your feelings, as his thumb stroked your cheek. “It’s not, not if it’s bothering you.”
“I just…” You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Though Steve’s closeness would’ve brought you comfort under ordinary circumstances, it made it difficult for you to concentrate as your heart began to beat a touch too fast. “Just been thinking,” you finally began, choosing your words carefully. “It was fine when we were kids but, I mean, we’re adults now. What happens when one of your dates pays off and you find someone to fall in love with? Don’t think she’ll be too happy with, you know, this. It’s not like we can cuddle on the couch or have sleepovers for the rest of our lives.”
Steve remained quiet for a long moment - a silence that stretched on forever, thick and suffocating - and you swallowed the emotion clumping in the back of your throat before opening your eyes. You were met with his warm gaze, soft brown eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite read as he took a half-step closer.
“What if… I mean, we could.” Two words, and you felt frozen in uncertainty. Everything around you, everything outside of Steve, ceased to exist. You could feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to elaborate. “The dates,” he began, now looking as nervous as you felt, “none of them have felt right. They don’t feel like this, like us. They don’t make me feel like you do.”
For months, you’d dreamt that Steve felt the same way. You imagined that somewhere, beneath the fond smiles and teasing jabs lingered the same nerves, the same butterflies, the same all-encompassing love. You imagined that his head was full of the same ���what-if’s’ as you shared his bed, the same hope that you’d share the same bed for the rest of your life. You dreamt that he would one day confess his love and end your hopeless attempt at getting over him.
But now that it seemed within your grasp, so close you could practically feel his heart beating just as erratically as your own, it felt too good to be true.
“What does that mean?”
The question came as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud you might break whatever spell had been cast over the backyard, but Steve heard it clearly. He met it with a half-smile as the hand on your hip began to trace nonsensical patterns across your skin - a nervous habit that made you feel as if your skin was on fire.
“Means that I want to keep holding your hand and having sleepovers,” he elaborated, voice soft in the still of the night. “Means that I… I don’t want to keep going on dates with anyone but you. Every time I think about the future, it changes - what I’m doing, where I live. But you’re always there and that’s all I want. I’ve been trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Steve’s confession rang in your ears, crashed over you like a tidal wave, and left you unable to speak - unable to breathe. He waited, patient, understanding, as your racing thoughts scrambled in search of something coherent. But when you failed to gather anything resembling a complete sentence, you decided to allow your actions to speak for you.
In the way that you’d started to imagine as you drifted off to sleep, you dropped the items in your arms and lifted your hands to tangle in his hair to pull him in close. He smelled of summer - cigarettes, cheap beer, artificial coconut and chlorine - and something so unerringly Steve that you suddenly couldn’t imagine being this close to anyone else.
The hand on your cheek was encouraging, soft and warm as he tipped your chin, and you gave in to the urge you’d been fighting. With one step, you pressed yourself close - your chest meeting his, the warmth of his bare skin setting your nerve endings alight - and pressed your mouth to his.
Despite your expectations, there were no fireworks, no sparks or heavenly choirs, but there was an instant sense of comfort. Kissing Steve felt like coming home, warm and easy, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. 
There was no awkward shuffling, no tentative brushes of uncertain lips. Instead, you moved together seamlessly. His body slotted against yours perfectly, fit exactly as if you belonged there - together, intertwined. His lips were soft, as plush as you’d imagined, and his skin was so warm that you wondered if you would be branded with his touch before the night was over.
Though your fantasies varied - desperate kisses, eager to make up for lost time; filthy ones, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, as you swapped spit and stumbled down a dark hallway toward his bedroom; soft kisses, designed to convey years of unspoken feelings - this kiss destroyed them all.
It was soft, slow and eager as you sought to become acquainted with the taste of one another, and laced with the underlying promise of a beautiful future.
Steve’s touch was eager, unrestrained and achingly familiar, as he held you close and swallowed the soft noises you made. Every breathless gasp and quiet sigh of pleasure, was met with a hum of his own as he slipped the hand on your cheek to the back of your neck.
Neither of you wanted the kiss to end, content to breathe in one another until your lungs collapsed, but the lack of oxygen and the reality of the situation had you feeling dizzy enough to break away. But as close as you’d always been, Steve kept you pressed tight to his body and rested his forehead against yours.
“Taking that to mean you’re in love with me, too,” he teased, breathless as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of hesitance. When he found none, he smiled - bright, happy, easy. “Totally not cool of me to admit, but I’ve wanted to do that forever.”
“You’ve never been cool, Stevie,” you returned, giggling as he pinched your side.
“Was gonna be nice,” he huffed, pretending to be put out though his grin never faltered as he shifted his head, brushed his nose against yours. “Tell you how pretty I think you are, how I want to spend the rest of my life with you; all that mushy stuff. But since you wanna be mean…”
Before you could blink, giggle out a teasing apology for your perceived slight, Steve’s arms fell to your waist. He held you close, lifted easily, and carried you the few steps to the edge of the pool. The moment you realized his intentions, the moment you opened your mouth to squeal out a plea for him to stop, Steve stepped over the edge and plunged you both into the water.
Even as you fell, sinking into the deep end, Steve kept you close. He hauled you both back up above the water, laughing as you huffed - thankfully used to this, almost expecting it as he attempted it every year.
“Steve!”
“What?” He grinned, dark hair dripping into his eyes as he guided you both into a more manageable depth and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just been nice to me,” he reasoned.
“I’m always nice to you, Stevie.” You weren’t - your friendship was an equal mixture of soft encouragement, soft words and even softer touches, and teasing jabs - but Steve hummed, just the same. “But I can be even nicer.”
“Know what would be really nice?” When you hummed, Steve returned a hand to cup your cheek - tipping your head to meet your eyes, only a hint of insecurity swirling amongst the warm, soft brown. “Telling me I’m not getting all this wrong. I… I know I don’t always get it,” he acknowledged, swallowing thickly, “but I… I get this, right?”
“Oh, Steve. The reason I got so freaked out about the clingy thing,” you began, lifting your hands to brush the damp hair from his forehead, “was because I was afraid you’d see it, how in love I am. I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re it for me, Harrington.”
Steve grinned, then, relieved - elated, clearly brimming with joy at the revelation - and leaned forward to close the gap. The press of his mouth to yours was eager, firm, and relieved some of the ache in your chest, the fear that this was something you’d dreamt up, too good to be true. He crowded you against the wall, body caging you in as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you sighed as you tangled your fingers in his hair.
Though the pool water was cool, the press of Steve’s body against yours had you melting. He always ran warm, left you blistering in the wake of his hands exploring your skin, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest as his fingers mapped the slivers of skin he’d only held through fabric.
“Babe,” he breathed, mouth barely parted from yours as you shifted your hips, “don’t wanna do this in the pool. Not the first time. Let me take you inside.”
The urgency in his tone drew a soft moan from you, eager to feel his touch and touch him in return. “Please. Waited so long, don’t wanna wait anymore.”
Desperation, eager and hurried, that had lingered beneath the surface of the entire encounter - a desire to give in, finally, after waiting for so long - showed clearly as you both rushed out of the pool. Steve remained close to you, one hand on your hip even as you both roughly toweled off, and ushered you into the house.
The Harrington house was as familiar to you as your own. It was a space you could navigate with your eyes closed, under the worst circumstances, and you were grateful for the knowledge as you and Steve rushed up the stairs to his bedroom without pause.
As many times as you’d stepped foot in Steve’s room, as many nights as you’d spent wrapped in his sheets, there was an understandable difference in this moment. The tension was palpable and, despite how eager you both were, you both faltered for a moment as the door clicked shut behind you.
“This… we don’t have to do anything,” he began, stepping close, his palm warm against your waist. “We can just shower, maybe watch a movie or something before bed.”
Again, rather than fumbling for a coherent sentence - attempting to make sense of the thoughts that remained scrambled in your brain - you reached out for him. Steve sighed as your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, eyes blazing with a heat that made your head spin, and you almost hated to lose the sight of his parted lips and lust blown eyes as your mouth pressed to his.
Steve’s hands began to wander, fingers mapping your skin in a desperate bid to commit it all to memory, as he walked you backwards. The plush of his bed hit the back of your knees, duvet soft, and he followed you down easily. With a knee pressed into the mattress beside your hip, a hand beside your head, Steve hovered above you, mouth never leaving yours.
While his fingers traced the skin of your stomach, your hips, your shoulders, your thighs, you brought your own to his chest. You raked your nails over his exposed skin, committing the warmth of him to memory, as he broke the kiss to lavish your neck with attention.
As he nosed at your jaw, lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, his hand fell to your breast, eagerly cupping the soft flesh over the damp material of your swimsuit.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, reverence lacing his tone as his hand flexed. “So warm, so soft. Smell nice.”
“It’s the sunscreen,” you gasped, words pitching higher as his lips latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. “You should try it.”
“Mm. You can put some on me tomorrow,” he offered, tongue darting out to soothe spot he’d nipped.
The promise was laced with an eager desire that had your hands wandering, nails raking over the trail of hair dipping into the band of his trunks, and you could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply. You knew that you tasted of chlorine and chemicals, of summer, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin.
Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, gathering slick between your thighs, as Steve nipped at the skin of your chest.
Skilled hands made quick work of the fabric covering your chest, easily ridding you of the damp suit without lifting his head from your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as Steve began to make his way down. He nipped at the delicate skin of your chest, stubble scraping your skin in the most delicious way as he shifted to free his hands.
As Steve’s hands shifted, cupped your breasts and hummed, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his trunks. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, reveling in the stuttering breath Steve released, even as his own hands began to trail downward.
“Always pretty,” he complimented, voice rough as he began to follow the path blazed by his hands, pressing kisses down your chest and stomach.  “But this,” he hummed, grinning when you whined as he moved out of reach, “too fuckin’ pretty. Not fair.”
“You’re one to talk.” It was breathless, a gasp that escaped as his lips latched onto a patch of skin near your hip, and Steve grinned. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie. ’S’distracting.”
Steve continued to sink lower, mouth blazing a devastating path across your skin, as his hands fell to the plush of your thighs. He spread them easily, settled between them, and glanced up at you from near the foot of his bed with a devilish smirk that reminded you of the days of King Steve - handsome, flirty, charming.
“How’ve we never done this before?” His hands drifted closer to your aching cunt, so close to where you desperately wanted him yet so far away as his mouth pressed to your inner thigh. “Wanna spend the rest of my life here.”
“Haven’t even got my bathing suit off,” you teased, though it was weak - wrecked, already so entirely destroyed for him. But Steve took it as a challenge.
Almost immediately, Steve’s hands slipped beneath the band of your bottoms and tugged, easily working the damp fabric down your thighs. The moment they were gone, tossed across the room to be found later, he settled back between them and grinned.
Before you could tease, make a joke about him being eager, Steve’s hands shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathered the evidence of your arousal easily, before they lifted to his waiting mouth. Your lungs constricted and breathing felt impossible as you watched him lap at the slick, an exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pulled them free with a wink.
“Knew you’d taste amazing,” he complimented, dipping his head to nip at your inner thigh.
Steve nosed at the juncture of your thigh as his fingers returned to your folds and you could feel his triumphant grin when you gasped as his thumb found your clit. But he didn’t allow you time to speak as he dipped his head and licked a stripe along your slit.
Large hands found your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin to keep you spread open as he lapped at you. There was no tentative tasting, no hesitant swipe of his tongue; Steve ate you like a man starved.
Those plush lips wrapped around your clit, eagerly tasting all you had to give, as his fingers returned to your puffy folds. He swiped them through your slick, gathered it on his fingers, before pressing them into you and working to open you up. 
“You’re,” a gasp interrupted you, stole your breathe as Steve glanced up at you from between your thighs - his shoulders keeping you spread open, hair caught between your fingers. “Fuck, Stevie, you’re good at that.”
Steve preened under the praise, lashes fluttering at that and the combination of your fingers yanking at his hair, as his fingers - longer, thicker than yours; easily pressing into the spaces you could never quite reach - sank deeper into you. 
As desperate as you were to feel him, to have him push you over the edge, this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. You wanted to feel him, to feel his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips met yours, and you told him as much as you tugged at his hair.
“Wanna feel you, Stevie, please,” you begged, stomach tight and chest aching as you desperately sought to catch your breath. 
“Fuck.” Steve’s forehead pressed to your thigh, warm breath fanning over your sticky skin. “Wanted to hear you say that forever,” he admitted, eagerly clambering up to shove his trunks down his hips.
As Steve shoved his swim trunks down, you tipped your head - eager to see if the rumors were true. And just as you’d heard, Steve was larger than you ever could’ve imagined. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with, bigger than anything you’d seen, and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to touch him.
The tip was an angry red, dripping precum, and Steve swore as your thumb brushed at the pearly bead. “Fuck, you’re so big,” you whined, wondering how he would fit - eagerly anticipating the stretch of him.
“Can’t say shit like that,” he huffed, laughing - pink cheeks blazing, embarrassed and secretly pleased at the attention - as he settled above you. “Ego’s already too big,” he teased.
“Not the only thing,” you returned, grinning when he laughed, fingers dipping between your thighs. “Fuck me, Stevie, please.”
“Anything you want,” he promised, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and guiding it to your puffy folds. He dragged the head through the slick, both of you moaning at the contact, before he notched the head at your entrance and pressed forward.
The stretch of him was delicious, too much and not enough all at once, and you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat as he sank into you. He went slow, careful, eager not to hurt you, but with every inch he sank forward, you were desperate to feel him fully.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve was pressed fully into you. It was overwhelming, being so impossibly close to him - completely intertwined, bodies as one - and all you could do was pull him into a searing kiss.
The kiss was a mess, a clash of tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but so satisfying as his hand gripped your hip. You could feel him surrounding you, all-encompassing, and you never wanted the moment to end.
Even as his hips began to snap, his rhythm steady, deep, you struggled to catch your breath - to care about anything other than the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him, the weight of him over you. The only thing you could say was his name, repeated like a prayer as his thumb found your clit and his lips remained just inches from your own.
Steve was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and suddenly the future was bright. There was hope, an eager desire to spend the rest of your life here - in this moment, with Steve pressed close - and you couldn’t help but whimper out a desperate, “I love you,” as you felt yourself barreling toward the edge.
The words were returned in a reverent chant, equally desperate, as you felt his hips begin to stutter. You were both nearly there, just a few presses of his hips - another swipe of his thumb, another press of his mouth to your heated skin - and you were careening over the edge with Steve following shortly after.
Warmth flooded your veins, his spend filling you so completely, and his lips sought yours despite your shared inability to regain your breath. It didn’t matter, not when all that existed was this moment, and you didn’t care that Steve’s weight had fallen to press you deeper into the mattress.
For a few long moments, you both lay there - gasping, fighting to catch your breath and return to the moment at hand - before Steve pulled away just enough to settle at your side. There was no distance left between you, slick skin pressed together, and you would’ve been content to lie there forever.
Steve, it seemed, felt the same as he settled into the pillow and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.
Though the afternoon began with a fear that Steve would see you as clingy, that he would never love you in the way you loved him, you were ending the night in the only place you wanted to be; clinging to your boyfriend, sated and happy and looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time.
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Author's Note: This was inspired by a sunscreen, believe it or not. Don't know how we got here but it was a fun journey.
Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​
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hannieehaee · 16 hours
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DOES HE KNOW ? (teaser)
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18+ / mdi
summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.
content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 1k (teaser); 9.8k (full fic)
release date: april 17th
or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!
a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist
support me through a one time tip<3
Something was clearly wrong with you.
Was Lee Chan hot?
Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.
You could date it back to some months ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.
For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).
After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.
"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.
"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.
"Wanna know a secret?"
"Sure."
"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.
You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.
Maybe he was drunk?
He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.
"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.
Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.
Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).
You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?
"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.
"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"
"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.
You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.
"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.
You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.
"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.
He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."
"He has a name, Soonyou-"
"None of us really care enough to learn it."
That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.
"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.
"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.
"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.
With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.
At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.
Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.
Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.
God damn you, Lee Chan.
...
read today on ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one<3
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jl-micasea-fics · 2 days
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Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh
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𝙭𝙡𝙞𝙭. 𝙞'𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙
! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !
「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© March 2024 by jl-micasea-fics」
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She finished work two hours ago. He can’t put it off any longer.
His loitering in the bookstore—a place he would argue is much designed for loitering—loses its novelty when his already blistered feet begin to ache. He scopes the city streets to find further employment, but three coffees from three different cafes soon inspire altogether different urges—ones he’d rather see to in the comfort of his own bathroom.
As he enters the apartment, he hears—to coin her term—culinary chaos. Pots and pans clang, a tempting sizzle leads him to the kitchen, where the girl he’s been thinking about all day despite his very best efforts appears to be cooking.
Thoughtlessly, he approaches, peering around her. A frying pan of steak, butter and garlic simmers on the induction hob. She startles on his presence, almost tips the pan until he steadies her elbow.
“Hi.” She blinks up at him.
He swallows. Lets her go immediately. His fingertips burn. “You’re cooking?”
“You’re always telling me I should try.”
“You couldn’t have started smaller?”
“When have you ever known me to do that?”
“Fair.”
In a summery, loose dress befitting the sweltering weather, he wants to point out she's not dressed for cooking, especially where hot oil is concerned. So much skin is on display; her smooth chest, her arms, her lovely neck. His face flames; he busies himself with a glass of water.
“How was your day?” she asks.
Hell. Yours?
“Fine. Yours?”
“Same. Supervisor Jin wasn’t in though, which was nice. We got to choose the playlist.” She grins— Minho can’t bear fucking it. How is she so okay? Did she not cry? Did her heart not tear down the middle like his? Does she really not care?
He slams the empty glass to the counter. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Want me to bring you a towel?”
Fuck this.
“Do you not remember what happened last night?” Minho snaps.
Her face falls. “Of course I do.”
“Really? Because you’re just acting like—” He gestures vaguely. “Like nothing’s changed. Like we’re still best friends, and we’re still—”
“Are we not best friends? You called it off to save our friendship, didn’t you? Or did I misunderstand?”
“N— No. I did. I mean; that was one of the reasons. I just didn’t expect you to be so... fine.”
She blinks. Her face is bathed in a stream of afternoon light, and like a diminishing veil, he sees her eyes glistening, her chin quivering, her cheeks aching with the force of smiling.
“I’m not fine.”
Her voice breaks. Tar oozes in Minho’s gut and squidges through his intestines, cramping everything. He wants to die.
“I’m so far from fine I don’t know if I'll ever be again, but I'm trying. I’m trying to just... get through the next hour. I’m trying.”
She cries, and he feels like his world might end. It’s always been this way. He can’t fucking stand it. Can’t stand her pain, her secrets, her issues—
“Would you rather this instead?” She swipes her damp cheeks. “For me to be miserable?”
“No. You know I hate it when you cry.”
“I don’t want to cry. Fuck, Minho— I just... I want to be better. I don’t want to be like this anymore.”
“Like what?”
She shakes her head. “I want to be the girl you could actually stand to be around.”
“Don’t say that. Please, don’t. It’s all wrong. This is all fucking wrong. I just wanted to understand you. To make sense of this disconnect. But you won’t talk to me. I feel like I’ve lost you and I don’t even know why.”
She boldly steps towards him, takes his hands and holds them to her chest.
“I know you don’t understand, and I’m sorry. One day you will. I hope. But I’ve got to get better, Min. I’ve got to learn how to manage all this. I’ve got to be kind to myself. I want to be able to tell you everything without worrying that the truth will force you away from me. I want to share my thoughts with you without all the shame. To open the box and show you what’s inside without being fucking terrified of it.”
Minho stares. Her hands are cold, her chest warm. He feels the pulse of her heart beneath her skin.
“I’ll get you back, bestie,” she whispers. “Count on it.”
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𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 >
𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙? 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ♡ >
< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤����𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >
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adhdslugcrimes · 2 days
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I have many so have one of my brain worms ♡
Klarian adopted by Danny, and who grew up in ghost zone and with ghost zone culture.
Klarian, who legit thinks he's friends with YJ cause fighting, is how you play with friends in the GZ.
One day Klarian summons Danny to show his friends to his mom, and danny is just "oh sweetheart, they're human, not ghosts, honey, I don't think they think you're friends. I'm sorry, in most living culture, humans especially, fighting doesn't mean friendship unless explicitly communicated verbally."
Klarian speed-runs a redemption arc once he realises the culture barriers and actually explains things from his side with some help from his mom when concepts are hard to put into words
I love klarian adopted by Danny so much
Rhdhdhdhdhdhdhdvdhdhdhdhd BRO THANK YOU YOUR BRAIN WORMS ARE DELISH OH MY GOD YESSSSSSSSESSS
Klarian being like Starfire was in teen titans having to explain his culture and everyone is not trusting him but my chaotic baby boy is trying oh my god, momma Danny so proud of him I'M AN EMOTIONAL GLASS CASE AND THIS SHATTERED ME WHY SO FUCKIN CUTE FJXBSBHDHDHDJDBDBD
Can me write this??
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drdemonprince · 10 hours
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What if your unmasked self is unacceptable even to other autistics? I feel like if I don't carefully curate myself I'm too weird and annoying to sustain friendships even with other weirdos. This thing where unmasking makes people like you more because it's more ~authentic~ just hasn't been true for me and it makes me really sad.
Well, what does "weird" and "annoying" mean in this case? In unmaskers I frequently see a lot of understandable social trauma playing out in, let's just say, not the most socially effective of ways at times. No longer mindreading and people pleasing and fawning is all to the good; becoming completely unfiltered while still harboring a ton of deep-seated fear of abandonment and then spilling it out all over people will understandably drive them away. No longer faking emotions and tone of voice preserves energy and helps us feel more genuine, but never putting any energy into trying to understand a friend's interests or emotions will kill a friendship.
There is a messy counterbalancing that has to occur for many unmaskers; at first we focus on never doing anything false and allowing our unbridled selves to roam free -- and then we often recognize that we will need certain self-advocacy, listening, communication, and even diplomacy skills to actually relate to other people, even while remaining true to who we are.
It's normal for the unmasking process to initially seem like it's making you harder to love, more annoying, more bizzaree -- that's a necessary corrective to having previously aimed to make yourself unremarkable or widely liked.
But if you find yourself repeatedly socially alienating even out and proud neurodivergent people, it may be worth asking whether you are taking actions that are pushing them away. Things like interrupting people when they are trying to open up to you, invalidating their feelings, seeking reassurances that no other person can provide, not interacting, self-victimizing, just generally hurtful interpersonal stuff that us traumatized folks sometimes do even in community with one another. If this is the case, you will have to work on accepting the feedback when people are kind enough to tell you that you're bothering them or disrespecting them -- it is not the end of the world, it is a habit you can notice and correct.
Or you might just still be withdrawing and inhibiting very hard, and doing self-protective things that convey to others that they should give you a wide berth. Lots of unmaskers give off really strong "dont talk to me dont come up to me i feel socially unsafe right now" vibes that are completely honest and authentic to where they are at the moment, even if they wish they could seem more welcoming. Please give yourself some grace to feel all that if that's what it is.
No one is too weird or too annoying to make friends. But you might need to find the people who are weird enough and mad enough and disabled enough for you. Alternatively, you might have some interpersonal baggage that affects how you treat others you still need to work on. Or your internalized disability stigma might just be telling you that youre being too much when youre barely taking up social space at all.
You know your pattern of experiences and the feedback others have given you, so hopefully you can sort out what is currently missing in your social life based on that and some reflection and more testing. Good luck and let me know what you figure out.
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gigglyapples · 1 day
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New Discoveries
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This fic is dedicated to @hype-blue-fixation and @squishyimps for all of their AMAZING audios and contributions to our little community! 🥳
I’ve used a few lines here and there from some of their audios as little easter eggs!
Now feast my little minnows! *yeets fic at you and runs away*
Also, sorry I haven’t been very active! Exams have been beating me up in the alleyway.
Lee!Alastor
Ler!Rosie
Warnings: Tickles/Super fluffy!
It has been a long day for Alastor. He’s only been in Hell for a couple of weeks and was still getting used to everything down here. Sure, there were parts he was admittedly fond of. The violence, the misery, the suffering… It was all a pleasure to witness. However, there were definitely parts of his new undead life he was still getting used to.
His deer form in particular was an odd one. Rather ironic actually… A mass killer on earth is never caught, but accidentally killed by a Hunter while walking home… way to rub it in Hell.
Though Al would never admit it, he was quite disoriented when he first arrived in Hell. Fortunately he picked up on the rules and games of this cursed place rather quickly. Using his cunning and manipulative tactics to get ahead, he was already well on his way to being a powerful overlord. And power of course was a big box to check off his list.
For the most part Alastor has kept to himself, defaulting to his instincts and staying out of the crowds, though, there was one person he’s met that he has grown quite fond of. A cannibal overlord named Rosie, originally he simply wanted to get close to her for the kill. She was simply another soul for him to own. However, Rosie was quick to catch on to his little scheme and made it known. Sure he was a murderer, a sociopath and maniac… but he had standards, so when Rosie made it clear she was had knowledge... He and Rosie’s respect for one another quickly grew into something some might even call, a friendship… both of them having somewhat of an unspoken truce between them.
Alastor had to admit, Rosie was quite like his dear mother, perhaps that is why he has such respect for her… Rosie’s husband on the other hand…. Not so much… Currently Alastor was puttering in Rosie’s living room, waiting for his dear friend to return with tea. They had quickly began a weekly ritual of gossip and sharing hearsay of easy to manipulate souls prime for the picking.
Alastor hummed observing himself in the mirror. He stared at his deer like features as he reached up to flick one of his ears in curiosity.
“Hmmm… curiouse…” He pondered.
“What is curiouse my friend?” Came Rosie’s voice as she entered the room a tea tray in hand.
“Oh! Nothing my dear.” Al responded turning to face the woman his eternal grin never faltering.
“Hehe, if ya spend all your time admirin’ yourself in the mirror, the other overlords are gonna catch up my friend.” Rosie teased sitting down on the couch pouring herself and Alastor a cup.
“Oho please my dear, do you really think so little of me?” Alastor asked, his smile growing wider as he went and joined her on the couch.
“Of course not, I just know how easy it is to slip outta line around here. Gotta keep up.” She smiled as she looked at her friend before taking a dainty sip of her tea. When the usually chatty demon didn’t respond she strained her eyes to look at her friend. She had only known him for a little over a month, but Rosie was a clever woman, she could read people like a book, Alastor included. Something that honestly unnerved the Radio Demon.
She observed her friend as he looked down at his cup deep in thought… in spite of his eternal smile… he looked… troubled.
“Whats on your mind Al?” Rosie asked. Alastor physically flinched a little at the question, clearly not expecting it. He cleared his throat. “Why, whatever do you mean Rosie? I am just chipper.” He chuckled leaning back into the couch.
“Oh come now Alastor, I can tell you’re lying right through your teeth!” She giggled at her pun placing her tea cup down on the coffee table.. “Come come, tell Auntie Rosie whats troublin’ ya…” Rosie smiled gently placcing a hand on his arm
“It does not concern you my dear, do not worry yourself.” Alastor reassured placing his cup down as well.
“Nonono, none of that, you are my guest, and partner in crime! I insist.” Rosie smiled.
Alastor thought for a moment. He knew Rosie wouldn’t let this go, she was a stubborn lady…
“Alright, but this stays between you and I.” Alastor warned.
“Of course Deary! Now, spill! spill!” Rosie giggled guiding him down to rest his head on her lap, something Al surprisingly didn’t object to.
“I am simply still adjusting to my new hmmm features…” Alastor began trying to find the right words.
“Oh! You mean like your adorable little deer features?” Rosie giggled in a teasing tone, making Al’s ears flatten in slight irritation as he looked up at her.
“Yes… that… I am discovering new aspects of this demon form almost daily, some that are certainly interesting…” Alastor admitted twitching his ear.
“Well, I for one find these wittle ears quite endearing!” Rosie giggled before starting to gently pet Al’s head and ears. Alastor stiffened under her touch. He hadn’t let anyone touch his ears yet. It did not feel how he expected… a shiver ran up the demon’s spine.
“Ah! U-Uhm… Rohosie what prey tell are you…?” Alastor stuttered as he felt her nails gently scratch and glide through his hair.
“I’m pettin’ ya silly. Feels nice doesn’t it?” She asked with a knowing smirk as her nails raked up and down against the base of the demon’s ears.
“Hng! R-Rosie- that is quite…”
“Aw, come now Al, don’t tell me you ain’t enjoyin’ this even a little…” Rosie smiled down at the younger demon.
“I’ve lived here long enough to know how these things work my friend.” Rosie snickered, scritching behind Al’s ears. Alastor whimpered slightly as the sensation grew more intense. Rosie watched as he began squirming on the couch his toothy grin growing wobbly.
“R-Rohosie… please, I am nohot- I am not a pehet!” Alastor giggled his ears twitching away from the woman’s touch as he gently thwapped at her hands, not even realizing he let a chuckle slip. Rosie gasped in sheer delight at his reaction.
“Oh Alastor sweetie! How come ya never told me!?” Rosie giggled cupping her cheeks with her hands. Alastor raised a brow at her.
“Hm?… Told you what?” He asked.
“That your ticklish of course!” Rosie teased. Alastor’s cheeks tinted pink as his eyes widened for a moment before he recollected himself.
“Oh please Rosie, do not be absurd! What on earth gave you such a ludicrous idea?” Al denied looking up at the woman, but Rosie noticed how Al’s eyes instantly locked onto her hands. Rosie smiled down at her friend, the blush tinting his cheeks was all the information she needed.
“Hmmm, I don’t know Al… you were bein’ awfully giggly a second ago…” Rosie stated making a claw with her hand as it loomed towards Al’s sensitive ears. He quickly reached up and grabbed her hand before it made contact as the two demons locked eyes.
“N-Now now Rohosie… ” Alastor gasped as Rosie used her other hand making the deer demon yelp as the ticklish fingers returned to their previous location.
“Ha! You’re gigglin’ and I’ve barely even touchin’ ya’! Thats just the cutest thing!” Rosie teased her voice full of endearment for the demon.
“B-Behe quihihiet! Ihit is not!” Alastor giggled tossing his head back and forth in attempts remove the woman’s tickly fingers. Rosie quickly noticed how Alastor hadn’t really made any real effort to move away from her… he could easily make this stop, but for some reason he wasn’t…
“Heh, I’m not the one gigglin up a storm here, Al.” Rosie snickered fluttering her fingers on the inside of his ear now.
“R-Rosie! Rohosie!” Alastor squeaked through his quiet giggling.
“Hm? Aw whats the matter Al? Are these little ears a bit sensitive?” Rosie smiled
“I-IhI’m going to hahave to bite yohou!” Alastor threatened opening an eye to glare at her.
“Oh! Well we can’t have that now can we? Better move to a different spot…” She replied in a mischievous tone, suddenly darting her free hand under his raised arm. Alastor screeched and began kicking his legs as she poked and squeezed at the sensitive skin underneath the fabric.
“Rohohosie nohoho!! Oho stahars!” Al screeched with his own hand still holding hers he quickly pulled his arm down trapping her hand
“Alastor… you’ve trapped my hand. How am I supposed to tickle ya if your arm is stoppin’ me?” She smirked not fully stopping her tickle attack on his upper ribs. Just ever so slightly wriggling them to keep the demon giggling.
“Y-Yohou and I… bohoth knohow thahat… is not true!” The Radio demon said through his giggles squirming under his friend’s fingers.
“Well… if you’re not going to let my hand free then I guess I’ll just have to stay here forever hm? How does that sound Al?…” Rosie teased and started pinching and squeezing the ribs under his arm. Alastor gasped and fell into another stream of frantic giggles and squeaks as Rosie began playfully poking and pinching the skin.
“R-Rohosie! Rosie Noho!”
“Hmmm say Al, if ya got ears and antlers like a deer… ya think ya got 13 pairs of ribs like a deer too?” Rosie smirked as Alastor eyed her with a questioning expression before realizing what she was implying.
“Nononono! R-Rohohosie plehease!” Al protested as she pulled her hand out from under his arm and wasted no time massaging little circles into his lowest rib.
“One…” Alastor screeched loudly, arching his spine and high pitched laughter escaped him. This was a game his mother would play with him often as a child, it never failed to make him cackle.
“Gyahaha! N-Noho! Rohosie!” The demon shrieked kicking and uselessly grabbing at the woman’s hands.
“Two… Three… Four- Alastor!” Rosie scolded when Al managed to grab her hands but he just kind of held them.
“Alastor sweetie, how am I supposed to count your ribs with you grabbin’ at my hands?” Rosie teased still pinching at his ribs.
“R-Rohohosie! Nohot- nohot there! Noho! Nohohoho!!” Alastor squeaked as her fingers moved higher up his ribcage.
“Hm? No what Al? I-“ What neither of them were expecting was a sudden unique high pitched deer like bleat to slip its way through Alastor’s giggles.
Rosie stopped her tickling fingers and looked down at the flustered demon under her with the biggest smile on her face, only making Al’s face grow into a darker shade of red.
“Oh. My. Stars! You fuckin’ Bleat! That is the most precious thing I have ever seen!” Rosie laughed going right back to that same spot to try and get that reaction again. Not a second later another bleat came from the Radio Demon.
“ROHOHOSIE *Bleat* NOHOHO! *Bleat*” Rosie noticed how much more frantic Al’s laughter had become suddenly due to his embarrassment.
“Awww whats the matter Al? Are you embarrassed? Don’t be shy sweetie, lets hear that adorable little noise one last time hm?” Rosie giggled. Alastor’s face could be compared to the color of his suite by this point. As he desperately tried to prevent whatever it was that was causing him to make such an embarrassing noise.
But despite The Radio Demon’s efforts the adorable sound came through again as Rosie’s fingers ventured down to his belly.
“ROHOHOSIE! *bleat* PLEHEHEHEASE! IHI CAHAHAN’T *bleat* CAN’T BREHEHEATH!” Al pleaded through his loud fit of laughter.
To his relief Rosie’s fingers finally stopped tickling and came to rest at her sides. Alastor laid there a flustered giggly mess as he tried to gain what little composure and pride he had left.
“Y-Yohou are… one evil woman…” Alastor lamented wiping a tear from his eye.
“Thank you! I do try.” Rosie smiled down at him gently scratching his scalp as he calmed down.
“Heheh! Have I ever told ya you’re adorable?” Rosie teased as Alastore relaxed into the touch.
“Ugh… Uhunfortunatley…” Al replied with a roll of his eyes. The two sat in silence as Alastor’s breathing returned to normal.
“So… feeling better?” Rosie asked making Alastor flinch and grumble.
“O-Oh hush you…. This event doesn’t leave this emporium…” Al grumbled his ears pinning back.
“Don’t you worry Al, you’re secrets safe with me, Sweetie.” Rosie smiled.
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blackhairedjjun · 3 days
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ghosting - c.bg
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pairing: choi beomgyu x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst with a happy ending, some misunderstanding, friends to lovers | word count: 683 | warnings: fighting / arguing, one (1) f word
part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)
prompt - HEAT: while engaged in a passionate argument with one another, sender, in the heat of the moment, blurts out “i love you!” to the receiver. think of like, that glorious trope where people have a huge argument and then suddenly sb drops the mic with “because i’m in love with you!” and silences the other person. u know the trope! (requested by @my313)
author's notes: hello evie! this is such a delightfully dramatic trope and honestly i'd love more opportunities to write for beomgyu hehe, so i'm glad you sent this in! i hope you enjoy!
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“come on, y/n! i never took you for the ghosting type!”
beomgyu sounds more pained than angry when he yells at you. his voice is strained, and you can practically hear the sob caught in his throat in between words. it’s too much for you to bear, so you screw your eyes shut and force yourself to look away from him.
if you look straight at him and see his eyes about to well with tears, you won’t be able to take it.
“i’m not trying to ghost you!” you say, voice shaking. “i just think一 we’ve gotten too dependent一 fuck, is it unreasonable for me to ask for more space?!”
“but you never asked, y/n.” beomgyu’s lip quivers. “you never asked for more space! if you asked i would have given you space. but you just... left!”
“i didn’t just leave! i told you every time, i don’t want to go out and keep seeing you!”
you turn to look at him 一 big mistake. tears are starting to spill down beomgyu’s cheeks, and you can feel your own starting to sting at the corner of your eyes.
“but why?! why do you want to stop seeing me?! did i do anything wrong? why won’t you...”
he lets the question trail off. he stumbles to the wall, leaning on it for support, his gaze at the floor as he tries to hide his tears.
exhaustion hits you and you fall to the floor yourself, ending up seated with your legs folded underneath you.
part of you didn’t want to distance yourself from him. when your long-time best friend started showering you with affection 一 sticking even closer to you at hangouts, giving you little gifts, playing songs for you on his guitar 一 you welcomed the change, and you found your heart beating faster around him. but a strange nervousness started to wrap itself around you, and questions swarmed your thoughts: was beomgyu always like this? did you always feel this way about him? what did it all mean for your friendship?
the questions were too much, and you did the first thing that came to mind: you ran away and shut him out.
now you face the consequences for it. beomgyu leans against the wall of your apartment trying not to fall apart, and you are weighed down on the floor, the questions ringing too loudly in your mind for you to ignore.
he raises his voice again. “wh-what are you so scared of, y/n? why are you so scared of me now?”
“i’m scared that i’m in love with you!”
your hand clasps against your mouth right after the words spill out. you’re trembling. the questions change into emotions: shame, fear, uncertainty. they weight down on you so heavily that you can’t lift your body to stand up.
nice going, you think. i ruined everything.
beomgyu crawls over to you and clasps your hands in his trembling ones. your eyes meet, and by some miracle you don’t feel like crying.
“are... are you crazy?” he says.
“i...”
“i’m in love with you, y/n. all the gifts... the songs...”
“i know. i just... i didn’t know how to handle it一”
beomgyu moves even closer to you, your hands still in his. both of you are trembling too much but you can tell that a new energy has taken over him, from the way his eyes shine.
“why did you run away?”
“i...” you bite your lip. “i don’t know how to love you, gyu...”
he lets out a long, breathy laugh, and the tension in the room evaporates. “honestly, i don’t know how to love you either.”
“i’m sorry, gyu... i’m so, so sorry... i shouldn’t...”
his arms are around you and you breathe in his familiar scent. your heartbeat starts to slow, and the world stops spinning; in his arms, the puzzle pieces of your emotions start to fall into place.
“can we work on this together?” he whispers.
you nod with your head in his chest, and he runs a hand through your hair.
“together.”
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trixisbored · 1 day
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Enchanted wings.
james potter x reader (oneshot)
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James didn’t know what hit him.
Well, he did actually. It was the bludger that he did not see coming because he was too busy staring at Y/N.
James felt himself slipping off his broom from the sheer force of the bludger, causing everyone watching to gasp in despair, except the Slytherins which they were playing against, they were probably reveling in the way that he was desperately trying to get back on his broom, slipping inch by inch. He looked at the ground in panic. A fall from this height would earn him some broken bones and maybe a whole season without quidditch.
Y/N was watching from the stands of Griffyndor, she had always been a fan of Quidditch since she used to watch it with her family all the time. But since 5th year her interest has been even more piqued because of a certain chaser. 
James Potter, the mischievous but golden boy of Gryffindor, always hanging out with his little group, the Marauders. She had started noticing him in 5th grade, she was trying to get her book back from an annoying slytherin boy, until James Potter walked by.
“Hey, leave her alone.” He said, closing in on the boy's face and taking the book from his grasp. James towered over the smaller boy as he ran away. He turned around 
“Here!” He had such a cute smile…
 Y/N felt a blush rise to her cheeks, she grabbed the book and starting to walk back to class when James grabbed her wrist 
“Hey, sorry, I didn’t catch your name? I’m James. James Potter.” Y/N paused surprised,
 “Oh, uh. I’m Y/N L/N. And thank you, I didn’t mean to be rude but I’m really late for class.”
 “Oh? What have you got right now?” And oh, that smirk.
“Transfiguration, have you got that as well? I noticed you were walking that way?”
“Yeah, I was headed there, but now that you’re here might as well give me some company, don’t you think?” He chuckled, and Y/N nodded as they began walking to class.
And that was that, they formed a kind friendship where Y/N she wanted something more, but she valued her friendship too much to have the possibility to ruin it.
“JAMES!” Y/N shouted from the stands, time seemed to slow down for her as she watched him fall, though on the last second she was brought back to her senses as she cast a levitating spell at his robes hoping that it would break his fall. It worked for a bit but then she heard a sickening crush as James collided with the ground.
“Oh my god…” She ran to the field and saw a crowd of team members surrounding him, she burst through it and saw him with his eyes closed groaning in pain. Y/N kneeled by him and took his face in her hands “James?”
“...Darling?” One of his eyes fluttered open and those gorgeous brown eyes stared back at her
“Yes, it’s me… We’re going to take you to Madam Pomfrey, ok?” She said looking at someone behind her silently asking someone to call the nurse.
“Yeah, I think I need her… ow.” He says trying to sit up
“Lay back down!” She said gently placing him back
The first thing James saw when he woke up was the distinct ceiling of the hospital wing, he felt like he was trampled by a Hippogriff, his left arm was constricted in a cast and he felt some bandages in his legs, but what was weird was the pressure in his right hand, though as he turned to look, what he saw was Y/N napping on his arm.
That did not look comfortable. At all…
“Hey sweetheart.” He whispered gently “Had a good nap?” He grinned
“James! You’re awake!” She says, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes “What happened out there?! I’ve never seen you so distracted in the field before…” She questioned. His eyes softened 
“Y/N,” James began, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity, “I need to tell you something. Something I should've said a long time ago.”
He gently lifted her hand from where it rested on his chest, his eyes never leaving hers. “I was distracted out there because of you, I love you, Y/N. You're more than just a friend to me. You're everything.”
He paused, waiting for her reaction, hoping that she felt the same way. “I know I've been a fool for not saying it sooner. Please, tell me you feel it too.”
Y/N's heart swelled with emotion at James's confession. She felt a rush of joy and relief flood through her veins “James,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I... I love you too. More than you could ever know.” She reached out to cup his cheek tenderly, her fingers tracing the lines of his face as if she couldn't quite believe he was real. “Can I kiss you?”
“You don’t even have to ask.” He smiled as they shared their first kiss.
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fandomsoda · 2 days
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So… we’ve come this far, huh?
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Today is officially the one year anniversary of my time on Tumblr, and the one year anniversary of my friendship with the lovely person who is @/dinosaurzzz (the slug cat on the right is its sona!).
It is honestly incomprehensible to me that it has been a full year since I got on this site and honestly it has completely changed my life. I have grown more as a person in this year than I believe I ever have in my whole prior life combined. I have found a community where I am loved, where I am safe, and where I am given the space to learn and grow from my mistakes, and that is completely fucking invaluable to me. And I will forever thank Dino for being the final thing to push me to finally get on this site that I already figured would be perfect for me. It has been such a wild ride, and even if Tumblr has muffled the reach of my posts at the moment, I am going to scream this one from the rooftops, and try to show appreciation for everyone who has helped me along this journey.
First of all shout out to my incredible partner @wishtale-blogs, she is the love and light of my life and she truly understands me and has my back. I never, ever thought that I would meet someone who both gets me completely and contrasts me perfectly and having her in my life is something I would never trade absolutely anything for. When you’re young it seems like destiny for partnerships to fall apart simply by nature of it being so early in life, but I genuinely feel as if this is unshakable, and I’m just.. so happy to have her.
And with that I’d next like to shout out our adoptive sons, @karineverse and @the-selfmade-gods. Both of you are absolute angels, lights of my life and people that I would protect with my life. Thank you so much for being here for me and being here for all of your friends and staying strong through all you’ve been through. I’m proud of you, truly I am so proud of you and I love you as if you were my own flesh and blood.
Now, I am going to list out every single person I can think of whom I consider a friend. There will not be elaboration here as this post will be long enough as-is, but just know that I could write a blurb for each of you for why I adore you so much, some of you a whole essay. If your name is not here and you consider us friends, do not hesitate to message or ask me about it, I never want to leave people out and I know how anxiety-inducing it can be to not wind up on one of these lists with someone you care about. That being said, here are the names of all of my amazing friends, in no particular order:
@twinklesporkle, @justanidiotartist, @nyxus-nyx, @jupiter-nwn, @rib-rabbitmask, @still-got-no-idea, @liliallowed, @ashburntcat, @ponnedapple, @person-of-many-names, @itzcherrybonbon, @spamsbylee, @nevil-gonslek, @duckielikeserror, @psycho-chair, @letsatomicbanana, @starmonsterrr, @midnightstarshadow, @colorfulpaintspills, @kenopsia-ksp, @autisticseapanda, @hiro-doodlez, @cherrio-krispz, @emerald-onion, @the-save-star-anomaly, @everydaygremlin, @dreamsb0u, @skylerfurmaniac, @meimeikyu, @silly-inksans-stuff, @sketchingstars03, @shenanogram, @sargentvenipede
And with these friends, I’d also like to take a moment to thank followers of mine who I’ve never known super personally but still value immensely. I don’t truly know you guys, but you seem amazing, thank you so much for being here.
@hex0code, @cherrifruiti, @gloomywoomymoon, @atherflame-theconcubus, @neonordream, @finleyforevermore, @epicnightm, @youracecard, @pearbranch14823, @palisadewasp @wolvesbaneandbuttercups, @crunchontoast, @bloomyspring
Thank all of you so, so much. There would probably be more names but there is a mention limit of 50, so I had to cut some down. Either way, thank you all a million, you all mean so much to me and I think this day is truly going to be the start of a new beginning.
And to all the people who would have been here, the friends who should have been here but aren’t…
if it’s simply because we haven’t talked in a while, I hope you’re alright and I miss you.
but if it’s because you’ve harmed me, I still hope you’re alright and growing as a person. I’m sorry we didn’t work out and I promise I miss the you that I knew. I wish that things had happened differently, and even though you’re likely not seeing this I hope today can be the start of new beginnings for you too. Thanks for the impacts that you’ve left on me, even if those are scars. You guys have also helped make me into who I am, and without hardship it would be hard for me to learn.
Here’s to a new day, and any more lovely years to come.
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zootopiathingz · 2 days
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If you really think about it, the ship where Alastor would be involved in that would most likely be canon so far would be Charlastor.
I mean, he despises Lucifer and sees Vox as not worth his time, so he's not gonna be throwing himself all over them anytime soon. Nearly everyone he interacts with besides the three women he's friends with, he's either indifferent, respectable or hostile to, but towards Charlie? This man has allowed her to touch him without permission, stated multiple times that he has faith in her beliefs and even handed her his source of power. Twice.
I'm aware he's doing all this with some underlying motive, but you can't deny he won't do all this for just anyone. I really can't imagine him all comfortably curled up in Angel's bed or getting handsy with Lucifer (He wipes his hands after touching him, man really doesn't like him at all). I support all ships with Alastor but if we're looking at this at a canon perspective, Alastor interacts with Charlie the most and will continue to interact with her as the show goes on, it's more possible to happen in a sense with Alastor.
Plus with all the romantic cues the show has (Unintentionally?) given so far, with the part where both Charlie and Alastor are laying on the heart shaped pillow but Charlie falls off the bed while Alastor remains on top off it, it seems that there could be a very small possibility that there might be an unrequited crush on Alastor's part.
Yeah, it's a stretch, but hey, he didn't have to lay in that bed. He could have stayed standing, looming over Charlie to show that he might be helping her but he still sees himself as above her and in control of the situation. But! Someone still animated him on that bed! They still animated him on that heart shaped pillow right beside Charlie! They didn't have to, but they still did and my minds still reeling after that fact.
No because you’re absolutely correct here.
Out of any of the characters in the series for Alastor to end up with, if he were to have a romantic subplot of any kind, it would be Charlie. They have the most potential together as a pairing and there have been so many little hints and visual cues that I’m honestly shocked that a romance plot isn’t where their relationship is going.
I genuinely cannot see Alastor ever engaging in anything romantic or physical with Vox or Lucifer in any way. And whenever I say that people like to excuse me of hating gay ships (which I clearly don’t. I am queer, and I love seeing queer ships that actually make sense and have good chemistry, and not just because they’re gay). It’s because he canonly hates men and is much kinder towards women—except for Vaggie lol. Yes, ship Alastor with whoever you want. It’s not my place to tell you if your ship is bad or not. I honestly don’t care because it’s your opinion and as long as you’re having fun with it, that’s all that matters!
But like anon is saying here, if we’re looking at it from a canon viewpoint, let’s think about it. Again, Alastor clearly doesn’t like men and can’t even be bothered to shake Lucifer’s hand without being disgusted. There have been three women who could be potential love interests. First is Mimzy, which I can see there may have been some flirtation here and there in the past, or even an unrequited crush on her part. But with her basically using him to get her out of trouble all the time, I can’t see them going beyond their on-and-off friendship. Then there’s Rosie, who he’s obviously very comfortable around and lets her touch and grab him as she pleases—which he wouldn’t let slide with any male characters in the show. And the Radiorose ship is cute I admit, but to me they’re a pair of gossip buddies who would maybe pretend to be in a relationship if needed, but otherwise their feelings don’t go any further than platonic.
And so that leaves us with Charlie. When I first watched the pilot I absolutely assumed they were going to have some kind of slow burn, not only because the idea of the princess of Hell and this feared Radio Demon falling for each other is so intriguing, but generally just the way they acted with each other. In like a span of eight minutes they were happily dancing together, with Alastor calling her one of a kind, tossing her around and making improvements to her dream hotel.
You can imagine how surprised I was when I found out they weren’t canon and weren’t going to be in the actual show. Like, I was legit going “🤨🤨🤨” and this was before I was even in the fandom lmao
And thank you so much for mentioning that scene in her bedroom because…
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What is this. What do you mean the mfs making this show drew out this scene, carefully looked at every detail for the final product, and went “yup👍” if there wasn’t supposed to be something more going on here???
Like seriously if you’ve never watched this episode and you saw these two frames, what exactly would you assume is going on here? Be honest with me
But ya know, charlastor “isn’t canon” (so they say🙄) so the animators here were def trolling us lol
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dira333 · 2 days
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Carpe Puella - Kuroo x Reader
For the lovely @misfit-megumi because she asked so nicely. I hope you're feeling as lovely as you are!!!
A/N: Convenience store romance, pure fluff
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Coffee. You need coffee. And maybe some solid food to go with that liquid lifesaver, because your stomach lining is holding on for dear life.
The doors to the Konbini swish open. You put your phone away, your fingers already itching to get back to it. Installing your work email on your mobile device has simultaneously been your best and worst decision to date. You can get so much more done. But you can also get so much more done!
“Good evening,” an elderly woman greets you. You nod and smile at her. Right. You’re taking a break. Focus on the real world.
You pay for a can of iced coffee, crack it open, and take the first sip as you trudge through the store. Do you want some ice cream? Some cake? Or rather something savory?
You spot the Buldak Carbonara easily, drawn toward its inviting Logo. Your hand reaches out to take it, but someone else seems to have the same thought, your hand knocking into theirs.
“Oh,” you both say. You blink up and up and up. The guy’s tall, dark-haired, and extremely handsome. As well as beyond exhausted. He blinks tiredly back at you. 
“Long day at work?” You ask, because he looks like you feel. He nods. His eyes flicker to the can of coffee in your hand and his sudden envy is almost palpable. You offer him the can before you can fully think it through.
“Want a sip?” You ask, surprised when he takes it. His hand is warm against yours, the chill of the drink having seeped into your skin. 
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and your eyes are drawn to it, the milky skin above the creamy white of his shirt, the dark red of his tie. 
“Thank you.” He looks down at the can and his face turns almost sheepish. “I think I emptied it.”
“Buy me another one?” 
-
His name is Kuroo. He’s tall, even when he’s sitting next to you at the little self-serve bar, waiting for his own bowl of Buldak Carbonara to cool down. 
“What do you do for work?” He asks, slowly sipping from a new can of iced coffee. You're still twirling yours in your hands, suddenly too aware of the way your hair must look after hours of work or the fact that you didn’t have time to put make-up on this morning. You don’t know what got into you to talk to him like that. You’re not usually this forward, which explains your status of being a long-time single.
“I work for as an agent for the JSA,” you tell him, ready to launch into the usual explanation of what that abbreviation means. Instead, his head shoots up, his ridiculously attractive hair bobbing with the motion.
“JSA as in Japanese Soccer Association?” 
You blink. “You know them?”
Kuroo grins and it transforms his features, turning him from being dark, mysterious, and attractive into warm, boyish, and even more attractive. Damn your heart that stutters to a halt.
“I work for the JVA.”
You can’t help but laugh. “You’re kidding.”
“Never.” He draws a cross over his heart to emphasize before he leans in. “How did you get into Soccer?”
“My dad taught me when I was younger. He trained our Middle School team. You?”
His smile turns softer. You can almost feel how it must be for him, diving into the past.
“My dad played with me when I was a kid. And when we moved in with my grandparents, it helped me form a friendship that lasts to this day. I know it’s hard to believe but I was rather shy as a kid.”
You feel your own lips tugging upward. It’s hard to stay in a bad mood around him, it seems.
“Does Yahito-san still work for you?” You ask, dragging your chopsticks through the thickened sauce. 
“No, she left a few months ago. Maternity leave.” He digs his own chopsticks in.
“Oh? How lovely!” 
-
“This was nice,” Kuroo says, the doors of the Konbini closing behind you.
“It was.”
His number is saved in your phone and vice versa.
Inside, this had felt like something, like a moment meant to be remembered. Just like before a goal, the air had visibly shifted. But there had been no kiss, no hug, nothing but a promise to try and keep in touch.
And now, outside on the streets, your life is pulling you in again. Your phone is vibrating in your pocket. Pretty sure it’s Ego, the new Blue Lock Project is coming along nicely, almost all 300 female Strikers have been assembled. Tomorrow, Kuroo will probably be nothing but a fond memory. Someone who could have been more, but never will be.
That thought drops heavy into your stomach. You stretch out your arm and offer him your hand to shake. You won’t be able to handle a hug now, not when you know that nothing is going to come out of this anyway.
“Until we meet again,” you tell him and make sure to smile. His own smile falters but he shakes your hand, the pressure firm and reassuring.
Not even five minutes later you’re walking down the street, eyes on the sidewalk as if you’re trying not to trip. Instead, you’re forcing yourself not to turn back around.
Your phone vibrates again and you pull it out, hoping for once that it’s a call from Ego or Anri, something to keep your mind occupied.
Instead, it’s Kuroo who’s calling.
You pick up and turn around, but the sidewalk is rather crowded and you can’t make him out anywhere.
“Did you forget something?”
“Yeah.” His voice is a little breathless. “Do you want to go see a movie?”
“N-Now?” You chide yourself right away. He probably thought about sometime next week.
“Yeah.” You can hear the grin in his voice, can picture it perfectly in your mind’s eye. “Don’t move, I can already see you.” 
And just like that, he slips out from between two strangers, dark hair crowning his proud grin and the twinkle in his eyes.
“Hi!” He breathes, phone still pressed to his ear. “Do you know the term ‘Carpe Diem’?”
“Not on the top of my head, no.”
“It means seize the day. And I suppose I’m doing just that. Or, more correctly, I’m doing Carpe Puella.”
“And that would be?” You can feel your heart bubbling in your throat. This isn’t what you expected, not something you could ever dream of happening. But he’s here and he’s grinning from one ear to the other, fondness warming his dark eyes. 
“To seize the girl.” 
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joepelling · 2 days
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“WHY ARE YOUR TAGS LIKE THAT?” OR: RED GUY DUCK AND YELLOW GUY ARE THE EGO SUPEREGO AND ID TO THE ENLIGHTENED MIND, A MASTERPOST
BASICALLY: the ego, superego, and id are freudian concepts of how the mind works in psychoanalytic theory. i match up the three protagonists of don’t hug me i’m scared with these concepts. here’s my insane person, long-winded explanation as to why.
THE EGO: rational, realistic, practical. the true self, the mediator between the other two. very concerned with self-preservation.
THE SUPEREGO: idealistic, critical, perfectionist. the judge, jury, and executioner.
THE ID: impulsive, childish, emotional. pure desire. associated with sexuality and romance.
the characters have been described by joe pelling as “the middleman” “cynical and fussy” and “optimistic and idiotic” respectively
RED GUY: is CONSTANTLY the mediator between yellow and duck. the only one seen in the “real world,” and the ego is the self presented to the outside world. the “worm in his brain” has to do with outward appearance.
DUCK: famously hostile and judgmental, constantly associated with the military (authority figures), even becomes a dictator in the scrapped pilot. his aggression is often targeted towards yellow, who he deems too emotional and sensitive and deserving of it the most. the “worm in his brain” has to do with morality.
YELLOW GUY: while he is often read as asexual and aromantic (which i agree with!), he has multiple “love interests,” even if none of them are played straight. his brain friends are all very emotional and have nothing resembling a voice of reason, and no way of handling warren (who can be interpreted as an intrusive thought) without enabling him. the “worm in his brain” has to do with relationships.
MISC DYNAMIC THOUGHTS: when yellow claims “grolton is the dog,” red corrects him gently and politely and duck swiftly shuts him down and tells him to shut up (there’s a lot of instances of red gently correcting yellow and duck doing it harshly, but to my memory this is the only time they do it with the exact same thing). during the friendship fight, red implies he’s told duck to stop being so harsh on yellow. duck has to intervene to remove warren (again, here a symbol of intrusive thoughts) as yellow is physically incapable of doing so on his own.
CLOSING THOUGHTS: do i think this theory is the key to understanding what dhmis is about? not at all! i personally believe that dhmis is just made for fun and with no deeper meaning than “becky and joe made something fun to make each other laugh.” do i as a psychology enthusiast think it’s an interesting way to interpret the text? yeah. my theory is flawed, for sure- yellow is concerned with keeping harmony and is usually nonviolent despite the id’s association with aggression, duck is the least likely to go along with the teachers (authority figures, when the superego gets its moral system directly from them), red often doesn’t care about the other two, among other things, but that doesn’t mean it’s not fun for me to think about!
if you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! feel free to ask any questions and i would be very happy to answer them, as i’m very passionate about this theory and love to discuss it. love you!
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Note
You mentioned in a post a couple days ago that you talk to your best friend every day but in your last post you mentioned that you have a friend that you feel too drained to talk to sometimes and I know this is my own insecurity but how can that be? If I’m the second friend to someone why am I less important?
There are a few reasons for me, anon. And none of them mean my other friend isn’t important to me.
My best friend doesn’t drain me the way most people do. Not even if she’s having a crisis. A lot of that is from being friends for over ten years and knowing so much about each other. But I don’t have to think a lot about everything I say/do with her. I can just be myself. I don’t feel a need to mask, and I don’t feel a need to filter myself. There is a lot of stuff about me and my interests/life that only she knows because a lot of people wouldn’t “get it”. And I’m safe to be myself with her. Even if I’m having bad recovery days. I never worry about feeling judged.
There are times we don’t agree on stuff but we always respect the other’s opinion. I know even if I accidentally say something wrong, she won’t lash out or get angry at me. If she feels a need to discuss it, it’s done in a calm way that is respectful of both our feelings.
She’s also come so far in her healing that there is no pressure on me to answer which helps a lot of the energy draining ironically? I feel more drained if there’s pressure. It’s not to say she never feels insecure, but she is so good at handling it herself sometimes. And if she does need reassurance, she asks me in a really healthy way and I’m more than happy to give it to her.
I think a lot of it is just that while having a safe space is nice, she’s kind of like my safe person?
My other friend is a great person and so compassionate. But she isn’t actively trying to recover, and she has a lot of behaviour she has to work on. This isn’t a moral failing or me thinking she’s a bad person or me judging her at all honestly. It’s just that I need to be in a specific headspace and have enough energy to be willing to engage with someone who I don’t feel cares to help themselves.
I also have other friends that don’t need to recover but we just aren’t as close. I don’t feel I can be myself so much. I feel I need to mask and filter everything I say and that takes active effort which takes energy. With my best friend, I don’t have to put any effort into doing any of that. I can just act around her the exact way I can when I’m alone which makes it easy.
This is about my very specific friendships and I don’t really know that any of it could be helpful to you. But I will say that my other friends are also important to me and I love them. And my love and closeness to my best friend doesn’t take away from any of that.
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Do you have ideas for how the Angel and The Prototype ship would occur and progress? (Like, who would get feelings for who first, who would they get advice from, how the toys would react, if it would be an even bigger romcom than Dogday and Catnap…)
FINALLY, MY TIME HAS ARRIVED.
Angel x Prototype in the Everyone Is Saved AU first starts after Angel finds a nice house for all the toys to live in. After everyone is moved out and settled in, Catnap convinces Prototype to leave the abandoned factory. Prototype reluctantly agrees, making sure to grab every single document he can find with him. I know Prototype is known by the authorities because Angel had to tell them about him, but not by the general public. When he leaves Playtime, it's a very quick and effective escape and into a small hut outside the farm.
This new place is way smaller than Playtime, physically wise, but it feels so much better in every way possible. Prototype is weirded out by everything at this point, even the sound of the toys playing with each other and talking like normal kids and young adults would do instead of trying to hunt each other for food like before. Elliot's mind is full, all the memories from the toys he absorbed together with his own, and now his brain finally has time to work out through the +10 years of trauma. He dissociates a lot, his hallucinations get weirder, all the good stuff about dealing with trauma, and the only ones who are there for him are Catnap and Angel.
Oh, Angel...
So we all can agree that Angel is also suffering from PTSD, right? And on top of that, they're taking care of +80 kids! Yeah some of them are young adults, but from Angel's POV those are still THEIR kids, and they have no idea how they work. Except Prototype does, and thus their relationship evolves from merely two adults desperate to give a better life to monster toys to two adults having no fucking idea what they're supposed to do for them. Prototype feels like he will never be able to repay for his sins, Angel feels like they'll never be able to provide everything the kids need. So one day Angel stays up late in Prototype's hut just talking about the toys, with Proto/Elliot also talking about them, and the two just go "this feels so overbearing, right?", and the other agrees.
When Prototype's relationship with Catnap finally gets better when they have some important conversations about the decade-long post Hour of Joy, there's a notable shift in his behavior, because now that he feels like he has his kid back it's like things can indeed be better. Cue to Angel getting better at dealing with the other toys, and as months go by their bond becomes stronger and more than just "hey the kids gave me a lot of work today and I need to drink/smoke, i'll stay at your hut so I won't be a bad example to them".
The really good stuff hits only after Poppy finds out that Prototype = Elliot Ludwig = her actual dad, because it's Angel grabbing Proto around and going "TALK. WITH. YOUR. KIDS", and it's the first time in decades since someone ever did that to him, because who in their right mind would bicker with a monster like HIM? And then Angel does exactly that. Smacks him with a newspaper and demands him to get his shit together instead of spiraling further into depression.
Somewhere during the months where Prototype is being promoted to parent #2 by each toy, one by one, is when Angel realizes that their friendship is getting a bit Funky(tm), but they just. Ignore it. Two years post-Playtime Co. go by and Angel is just there like "what I feel for parent #2 is entirely platonic and I do not think of him as anything else than a friend at all hahaha it would be weird right. Because he still talks to me about how he misses his wife (they divorced each other +70 years ago) and how he feels like he failed literally everyone important to him. I mean he didn't fail me what I see is just a guy struggling to be better and honestly I'm worse than him and- oh wait What" until like, they go to a family trip and Prototype decides to stay behind to watch over the farm, and Angel misses him way more than they think they would just miss a dear friend, and it's not just because he helps them with the kids.
Anyways Angel is panicking in all levels except physical when one day Prototype is talking with Catnap and Poppy (they're having a three-toy "tea party" because Pop wanted them to have a small family gathering) and she looks at him in the eye(s) and says "dad, are you sure you don't feel anything else for Angel?", and Proto is just "why are you asking me that???". Cue to Catnap staring at him like
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And then Prototype realizes it's not very normal kind of platonic two months later when Angel, as per usual, is called by a scammer. And, as per house protocol, all the toys immediately go to the living room as Angel says "hold up, can you talk to my husband for a moment?" and gives Prototype the phone and tells him to do his thing and annoy the scammer. And Prototype feels weirdly a tiny bit too happy about pretending to be someone else's husband.
At this point the other toys are eyeing the two of them and going "no way..." as the two IDIOTS show them that yeah, yeah, they're witnessing the second romcom of the house, after Catnap and Dogday's telenovela-level worthy levels of drama. Some of them, like Kickin and Dogday himself, think it's no big deal, just two people being friendly, that's all, and then some time later Prototype accidentally sleeps over Angel's room during a thunderstorm (Angel is afraid he'll get struck by lightning so he stays in the main house for safety), and Angel, a genius Made In Brazil, decides to sleep in their room anyways because why not, Proto is just giving free teddybear vibes.
Proto wakes up and just accepts his fate (he's happy with that). Angel is half-asleep and very content with the setup.
... Anyways. Next day goes by, surprise surprise, the family's cuddle pile for movie night now has Prototype added to it, and it's not because Angel sleeps better when he's around. Nope.
Poppy and Catnap are considering start doing some bets to see how long it'll take their parents to realize It's Not Normal Platonic Anymore(TM) at this point, and are unimpressed when Prototype goes to them, sighs, and agrees that Poppy indeed was right. Meanwhile Angel has NO IDEA what to do because it's Prototype/Elliot, no way they have a chance, they'll just end up ruining their little weird family structure, and Dogday and Mommy Long Legs calm them down.
Bobby Bearhug and Craftycorn are working with the other toys to see if they can make Angel realize they need to do something, because Prototype is NOT going to do ANYTHING because his therapy is going strong but his communication issues are stronger. Hoppy and Picky know all about it and try to make Prototype do something about it, while Kickin and Bubba are Dissapointed But Not Surprised at the Situationship going on. "Guess Dogday and Catnap aren't the only ones with communication issues...", they agree, not realizing they also have communication issues. Mommy Long Legs is losing her fucking mind because HOW can one household have SO MANY IDIOTS RUNNING AROUND AND WHY ARE HER ADOPTIVE PARENTS LIKE THAT. AAAAAA. It's good drama tho.
Poppy tasks herself with keeping tabs on what's happening between her two parents. Catnap is watching in the background like "stop being so dramatic over this, Pop, they're working adults, they sure can talk". He may or may have not be gathering information to share with the old ladies at the church he goes to, because those girls LOVE Angel and are all curious as to how their relationship with the kids' "second parent" going. Catnap never tells them much asides from "my mother is, once again, terrible at communication, but has been doing well", but even he starts getting a bit impatient at one point.
Prototype and Angel's big telenovela-level worthy of romance drama lasts a few months, mostly because they both need lots of time with themselves in order to figure out what to do, and also mostly because at some point Angel is pretty content with just being Prototype's non queerplatonic/romantic partner. They're just going with the flow, initial anxiety being left behind and all of that.
Also Angel is a really big freaking dumbass, because Prototype's way of affection is through pampering, and he has been pampering Angel for MONTHS at this point and our human just didn't notice it's not platonic pampering. Prototype gets them more than one flower bouquet and Angel is just "oh this will be very nice for the house, Bobby and Long Legs love red roses!", and he keeps giving them the bouquets because it makes Angel happy, thus making him happy.
No, Elliot doesn't realize Angel is also stupid. He just tries to flirt like it's the 1930s while Angel is flirting like "haha what if we were married. Just kidding! Unless...?"
I think Angel doesn't exactly confess to Prototype in a traditional way. One night they're both chilling at either the hut or Angel's room after a long day and Angel gathers the courage to ask him what they even are. "You're the children's Parent, and I am Elliot Ludwig". Angel reworks their question to be "I don't think we're just platonic friends anymore".
"Do you want to be more?", Prototype asks, hopeful. Angel pauses, then agrees. "Then we can be more". After some talk they settle on either queerplatonic or romantic - I don't know which one would work best, but I think they aren't just platonic or just romantic. Angel and Prototype understand and respect each other a lot, and their relationship, for me, can't be defined with a simple "it's romance" definition. They're just them, and that's what matters.
Also Prototype goes "I WAS TRYING TO GET YOUR ATTENTION FOR MONTHS!" and Angel goes "I WAS REFERRING TO YOU AS MY HUSBAND ALL THE TIME AND YOU JUST THOUGHT I WAS JOKING AND BEING A SMARTASS????"
... Also Angel can wear a ring now! Prototype as well. They tell the kids about their new Situationship and Poppy very happily says "I won our bet!" to Catnap. Everyone else is glad for their parents but also their real-life telenovela is no more..,....
Anyways, I think this post is getting too long, I may share hcs about how their relationship works later, if anyone is interested!
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akesdraws-blog · 2 days
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I love you, but I know you don't love me back part. 2
version: 🐢TMNT 2012🐢 ⁠ ✿ There are loves that last forever even if they are not together.⁠✿
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❤️ Raphael ❤️
The turtle in red had always stayed away from matters of love, they didn't really seem to interest him.
But that still didn't mean that anyone could be attracted to him.
But you would always be a great friend to him, just like Casey, just like April, but there was something more on his part.
Seeing how Leo and Donnie behaved when they were in love, he knew you had the same attitude, and for Casey it was also obvious.
And he doesn't want to go through that kind of problem.
At first he will try to be a little rougher with his way of being, other times he was indifferent, he just wanted you to stop acting that way.
But it wasn't like he would like to treat you that way either.
So like Leo, he will be direct to talk about the matter.
But he will make sure that only you go, during a patrol or perhaps a training session.
A moment when he knows they can open up and maybe if you feel the urge to punch him in the face you could blame the training.
“Time to put the cards on the table... Look, I'm not interested in getting into love conflicts like Don and Leo have, you are a great friend and an excellent partner, but that's it”
Clearly the blow was not long in coming, but in the end it was something that was arguably necessary.
You could get your pain and anger out that way.
And maybe after a while their relationship as friends could return to what it was before. (Or so he thought)
But still don't expect that topic to be touched on again.
You could say that it became taboo among you.
They're still friends, they go on some mission as a team, they fight for fun, they kick kraang ass, they have more fun than anything.
But he knows that in the end the one who helped you understand things better was Casey, he somehow left him alone.
And when Mona happened, I knew you were devastated.
But it wasn't something either of them wanted to talk about.
Maybe it had just been a silent acceptance on your part.
“You don't have to hit to do damage. One word, it hurts. Silence hurts. A betrayal, it hurts. Contempt hurts. Indifference hurts.”
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🧡 Michelangelo 🧡
In reality, he hadn't even noticed your crush.
He just thought they were best friends.
You cooked together, you read comics together, you skated together, you even supported him in his pranks.
Only the concept of best friends was in his head.
Until it was his brothers who explained your attitudes to him.
And he honestly didn't know what to say or how to act.
Trying to imagine dating his best friend gave him a little chill, like a pizzeria without pizzas.
And it was on the advice of his brothers that he had to talk to you. (more like they forced him)
“How about the pizza? Although it is normal for one to eat a pepperoni pizza, it is not because you like it, right? Maybe you just like how time passes while you eat that pizza, like ordering a triple cheese pizza just because with that pizza you can have many fun moments, or you can talk without getting uncomfortable, or because maybe you can be best friends without there being something that ruins that wonderful friendship... Don't you think so?”
Although it would take a bit, in the end you would understand what he is trying to tell you.
It wasn't for nothing that they spent so much time together.
It was good to be able to talk things through even though they will use pizza as part of the conversation.
He felt pretty bad, but if you give him a little encouragement or a hug he'll know that your friendship wasn't completely ruined.
And when he met Renet, he honestly felt a little overwhelmed.Many thoughts filled his head.
Was I bad for falling in love with someone else? Was I being selfish? What if you got angry?
He almost had a meltdown.
But if you are with him to support him in that crush he had, he will not only be happy, he will feel accompanied.
You may not necessarily have to set him up on a date, but knowing that you can talk about something you did with your crush will let him know that you are still friends, despite what happened.
“I thought that love was like in movies and stories, that if one fell in love, the other would too…”
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
In case you missed it: Leo / Donnie
Tags:
@turtle-babe83. @dilucsflame33. @thelaundrybitch. @scholastic-dragon. @leosgirl82. @tmnt-tychou . @little-bunny-in-space . @happymoonangel. @lazyafgurl. @kikithedreamerwriter. @androidships007.
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daily-hanamura · 4 months
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#p4#persona 4#hanamura yosuke#yosuke hanamura#EVERYDAY IM HOWLING. EVERYDAY IM SCREAMING.#for context this comes at the heel of yosuke charging at mitsuo kubo in rage because of his flippance towards killing saki and he's hit har#but souji and kanji jump in to protect him#like ok a lot of things going on here such as the obvious OH MY GODDDD yosuke being yosuke and taking things on for himself#because he doesn't want to bother people?? because he's made it his own responsibility? because his survivor's guilt is still lingering?#i mean don't tell me he doesn't look at how he surrendered to his shadow like apart from his self-sacrificing propensity#i low key feel like everytime yosuke demands answers about saki's death from the murderer/god/etc there's this undertone of how#he would rather it have been him#he cheapens his own life so much and for what#BUT ALSO!! ALSO!! not just souji jumping in because we know he would he's down bad for yosuke BUT ALSO KANJI#listen you've all heard me talk so much about how i adore kanji yosuke friendships#i can't really tell whether it's kanji or souji that says “haven't we earned your trust yet” but it's a line that hits SO HARD#regardless of which one of them was saying it and i think it hits hard in slightly different manners#it's kanji's admiration and how he looks up to yosuke and how he wants to be closer to yosuke as a friend/kouhai/whatever you want#tatsumi “who's your partner now!” kanji has so much respect for yosuke he wants yosuke to rely on him too!!!#and this stands out because kanji is very conscious of social hierarchies and such but as a kouhai as yosuke's junior#he's so specific about wanting yosuke to treat him as an equal#i smtimes feel bad for kanji because he has a bit of that vibe of a poor puppy trailing after souyo because he wants to be in their convos!#he wants to be included! but critically he also just! wants them to SEE him!!#going a lil off tangent but i think kanji's attitude towards souji is very much one of kouhai respect like he understands his place#of like deferring to souji or getting advice from him and just generally regarding him as a reliable mentor#and it's the same with chie and yukiko? but idk man. with yosuke. guys. with yosuke i always feel like kanji wants to break that hierarchy#that convention. that social norm. to cross a line and be closer to yosuke.#he's more willing to tease yosuke in a way he doesn't with the other 2nd years. and this isn't coming from a place of disrespect either#AGAIN. KANJI REALLY LIKES YOSUKE. he wants to protect yosuke!!! he jumps at the opportunity for yosuke to rely on him!!#i'm getting delulu but there's those hints of “yosuke senpai i want you to see me as a man!!!” kind of energy here and i'm it's yknow hmm
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