#Small swimming pool design for home
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johnypage95 · 6 months ago
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sherlocked-avatar · 2 years ago
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Pool - Contemporary Pool
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softspiderling · 6 months ago
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illicit affairs - part six | r.c
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summary:
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you.”
The tone in Rafe’s voice made you pause and you felt your stomach drop. This was it. Rafe found out about your feelings for him and he was about to tell you how he didn’t feel the same.
“Rafe-”
“Can you let me say what I want to say first?”
OR; Your parents are gone for the weekend and you have the house to yourself. Mostly.
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: none, I think
word count: 3k
author's note: wait.... this is kinda crazy, but don't hate me for this please. Also i'm genuinely so tired rn, falling asleep as i type this... happy reading!!! <3
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
pt. six: "you'll be flushed when you return"
You were sitting at the bottom of the stairs at your house, watching your parents pack the last of their things into their bags. They were headed to Charleston over the weekend, running the last errands before the Spring Fling the following week.
“Do you have your wallet and phone?” your mother asked your father as she closed the flap of her purse, checking her reflection in the mirror.
“Yes dear.”
Your father tossed his laptop into his bag, zipping it up before straightening his back, glancing over to you.
“Are you sure you don’t want Kelly to come over the weekend? It’s still not too late to call her in.”
“I’m good, dad,” you assured him. “Kelly should take the weekend off, it’s such a waste to have her for the whole weekend just incase I want a home cooked meal. I’ll probably just go out to eat.”
“Okay then,” your father said with a nod. “We’ll probably be back Sunday night, behave yourself.”
“Bye honey!” your mother called over her shoulder, exiting the house. Your father was hot on her heels, but just before he closed the door, he paused, turning back to you.
“And don’t you dare throw a party while we’re gone,” your father said, wagging a finger for good measure because apparently you were a child in the 80s being scolded by your parents. You resisted an eye roll, because they still had enough time to make you to come along on the trip, so you only nodded, like a good daughter.
“I won’t dad, don’t worry,” you sighed, leaning your chin on your hand. “I’m just going to hang out with my friends.”
Your father gave a curt nod, bidding you goodbye before he left, shutting the front door behind him. Shortly after you could hear the engine from their car start, before the sound of the engine slowly quietened down as it left the estate.
“Finally,” you sighed to yourself, padding back upstairs feeling like your stress had just left with your parents. It was a sunny day out and you wanted to use that time to get some tanning done. As you fished a bikini out of your drawer, you had half a mind to text your friends to come over, hang out by the pool. But that meant facing Rafe.
Ever since the nightly swim during the boneyard party, the ache in your chest that you felt whenever Rafe was around had started to feel more present, as opposed to dull. But you had promised yourself (and Rafe) that this wouldn’t get between your friendship. Tugging the bikini top over your chest, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, unhappy with yourself.
“Fuck it,” you muttered to yourself. Grabbing your sunglasses, some sunblock and your phone, you headed back downstairs, sending a text into your groupchat.
precious [04/05/24: 2:37 pm]: i’m out by the pool if anyone’s down to join
precious [04/05/24: 2:37 pm]: bring food tho
Sliding the door closed behind you as you stepped out to the patio, you headed for your designated sun chair, dropping your stuff on the small side table. You planted your ass on the chair, slathered the sun block on your body, because you very much did not want to look like the hamburgers Topper tried to grill and as you spread the sun block on your arms, your phone buzzed.
top [04/05/24: 2:40 pm]: stuck at the court house with my mom rn, i’ll text when i’m otw
kelce [04/05/24: 2:41 pm]: i’ll be over later
No reply from Rafe, though.
With an eyeroll, you turned your phone, screen side down and made yourself comfortable on the chair, feeling your skin warm up from the sunrays. You heard your phone buzz again, but you were too lazy to reach for it, shutting your eyes, a comfortable silence settling over your patio. Before you knew it, you dozed off, limbs growing tired in the sun.
“Hey precious…. You really invite people over to hang out just to be asleep when I get here?”
….
“Precious.”
You let out a small noise, squeezing your eye shut, a frown on your forehead. The voice quietened, and you nearly slipped back into your slumber, when you felt fingertips dancing on your exposed stomach. The touch was featherlight, but it broke through your unconsciousness, your eyes fluttering open.
Rafe was perched on the edge of the sun chair, his palm resting on your hip. His mouth was curled in a smirk and you were already annoyed with him.
“I was having such a good nap,” you huffed, rolling your shoulders a little, before you arched your back, waking yourself up a little.
“You’re not being a very good host,” Rafe replied, all the while his eyes not leaving your chest, which admittedly, was your goal.
“You haven’t been a guest at my house since you were 14.”
Leaning on your elbows, you sat up to look at him, unimpressed.
“Where are the others?”
“Told them not to come,” Rafe said, his thumb tracing circles into your skin, but you only narrowed your eyes at him.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you.”
The tone in Rafe’s voice made you pause and you felt your stomach drop. This was it. Rafe found out about your feelings for him and he was about to tell you how he didn’t feel the same.
“Rafe-”
“Can you let me say what I want to say first?”
You exhaled deeply, sighing, and buried yourself deeper in the sun chair. Rafe watched you intently for a second, removing his hand off your waist to run it through his hair.
“When I suggested we do this casual sex thing, I was mostly doing it out of comfort. I hated hooking up with those random girls who were always so insanely clingy after, and you were right there: my best friend, who’s also kinda crazy hot and understands me without having to say a single word.”
Rolling your eyes at him, you turned away to hide the flush on your cheeks, but Rafe stopped you, turning your chin to face him again.
“Will you look at me while I’m talking to you?”
You lifted your eyes to meet his, and nearly died at his undivided attention on you. After making sure, that you weren’t going to turn away again, Rafe dropped his hand, carefully reaching for yours.
“The past few days I have been struggling, feeling restless, and I couldn’t tell why, until I realized….” Rafe paused, taking a deep breath. “I love you, precious.”
Your eyes widened at the confession, your mouth agape. “I…. What?”
“I know this sounds insane and I really really hope you feel the same way, because otherwise this is gonna get real awkward,” Rafe chuckled dryly, and you shook your head quickly.
“Rafe,” you started. “You know I’m in love with you, right?”
“You are?”
“Yes!”
Rafe beamed at you, pulling you in closely, and the weight on your shoulders disappeared when your lips touched his. Even though you have kissed so many times, this kiss felt… Different. He pulled away, hand gently caressing your cheek and you sighed softly, thinking of how to break this to Kelce and Topper.
“What are you thinking about?” Rafe asked, raising a brow at you. “Precious?”
Your eyes narrowed at the sudden increase of volume,, his voice his voice seeming so much louder than before. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
“Precious, hello?”
With a gasp, you startled awake, your heart racing when you saw Rafe standing over your sun chair, his brows furrowed over his sun glasses.
“What?” you breathed out, swallowing thickly, trying to calm yourself down.
“Shit, are you okay?”
Rafe pushed his sun glasses up, his forehead creased in concern and you nodded, taking a deep breath.
It was just a dream.
“Yeah, sorry, you just startled me,” you assured him, grasping at your chest. You could barely look at Rafe, the dream was still replaying in your head, it seemed so real. Rubbing your face with your hand, you swung your legs off the sun chair, peering up at Rafe, hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sun.
“When did you get here?”
“Not that long ago,” Rafe replied, eyeing you suspiciously. “You sure you alright?”
You rolled your eyes at him, shoving his bicep. “Yes, dad.”
Rafe smirked, and you knew exactly what he was going to say next.
“I think you meant-”
“I know what I meant, you perv.”
Your hand reached out to whack him, but his reflexes were faster, his fingers slipping around your wrist to stop you. With a quick tug, he pulled you towards him, sending you crashing against his chest. You glared up at him, but your cheeks were flushed. If he asked, you’d blame it on the sun.
“Why aren’t we hanging out at your pool more often?”
Rafe played with the small strings of your bikini bottoms on your waist, a smirk ever present on his lips.
“Because you always get bored hanging around doing nothing,” you reminded him. He clicked his tongue, his eyes zeroing in on the valley between your breasts.
“I wouldn’t be bored if you wore this bikini every time, fuck.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “God, have you always been this horny or is it just since we started fucking?”
Before Rafe could answer, a crash sounded from inside the house followed by some cursing. Your head turned towards the sound before you looked back to him.
“Top and Kelce are here already?”
“Yeah, we came together,” Rafe said, as if it was obvious, but you only let out a sigh, pushing away from him to head into the house. As you got into the kitchen, you saw Topper and Kelce tinkering around in the kitchen.
“Hey boys.”
“Precious, hey,” Kelce greeted you, shoving a bag of ice on the counter to give you a half hug.
“What are we making?”
“I was thinking frozen daiquiris,” Topper said, heaving the mixer on the counter with a grin, before smacking a kiss on your cheek. “Hey. We were starting to think Rafe got lost out there.”
“Oh no. He was too distracted by my boobs.”
Topper paused to glance over to you, his eyes quickly flying over your chest, before giving a brief nod.
“Understandable.”
“Yeah, I don’t even like boobs and yours look good in that bikini,” Kelce chimed in. Rafe only gave you a look that said I told you so as he rounded the kitchen island.
“And you’re calling me a perv,” Rafe miffed, emptying the bag of mangoes. Together, the four of you managed to make a big batch of frozen mango daiquiris, tossed together the salad the boys got from Whole Foods and prepped the steak for grilling in-between bickering.
Sipping on your drink, you carried out the salads out to the patio, while Topper got the grill going, with Rafe breathing down his neck, because he paid good money for the steaks and he wasn’t about to let Topper grill it to death. Kelce was setting the table when you put the salad bowl down, a beer bottle in his hand as he laid out the cutlery. You eyed him carefully, thinking back to his text.
“Hey, what were you doing before you came over?”
Kelce’s hand stilled over the fork, and he decidedly didn’t lift his head, staring at the napkins. “I was at the golf course.”
He was being cagey, and his answer didn’t really satisfy you, especially because you knew how he Kelce hated golf. Whenever Top and Rafe went golfing, you and Kelce either went for ice cream or to the beach or hung out in a golf caddy, making fun of Top and Rafe. Kelce would never willingly go on on the green.
“…. What were you doing at the golf course?”
Kelce hesitated before he answered, taking a deliberately took another long sip of his beer, and you narrowed your eyes at him before he finally gave in.
“Malcolm asked me if I wanted to play a few rounds of golf with him.”
Your mouth dropped open, half in shock, half in excitement. “Wait, really?”
Kelce nodded, his mouth curling up in a small grin.
“Yeah, Just the two of us.”
“Kels, that’s great,” you told him, pausing as you thought his words over. “Wait. Was this just you hanging out, or was it a date?”
“… He didn’t say date.”
You sighed and Kelce shook his head, frowning.
“Don’t look at me like that. You know this shit isn’t easy, for neither of us.”
“I know Kels,” you said, voice soft. “But I just don’t want you to get hurt again if Malcolm is scared of things getting real and throws himself at another girl.”
Kelce shrugged with his shoulders, like he didn’t really care, but you rounded the table to lean your head on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes and you were content to just stand there with him, watching as Rafe and Topper fought over the grill.
“What about you?” Kelce suddenly asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t heard anything about boys from you recently.”
Your eyes lingered on Rafe as he snatched the tongs out of Topper’s hand, and you bit back a smile. “Oh. No one’s caught my eye recently,” you lied and Kelce, sighed.
“You’re lucky, crushing on someone is so stressful. It is not what it used to be.”
If only he knew.
“Alright, steaks will be done in a few minutes!” Rafe called over from the grill and you nudged Kelce.
“Come on, let’s get the rest of the table settled.”
The four of you spent a rather chill day out at your pool. After a great steak dinner, with the steaks grilled to perfection (”I told you that it was the perfect time to take them off the grill Top, sometimes you just gotta listen to your gut.”) you got buzzed off of the frozen daiquiris and even went into the pool a few times. Before you knew it, the night broke in and it got too chilly, so you started clearing everything away, carrying the dirty dishes into the kitchen.
“Man, staying out in the sun all day really knocked me the fuck out,” Kelce said, yawning into his shoulder as he put the rest of the salad into the fridge.
“Yeah, we’re getting old,” Rafe agreed with him, and Topper side eyed him,
“Who’s we? You’re two years older than us.”
Rafe smacked Topper’s head upside down and you snickered to yourself as you dried off the mixer. Rafe moved to open the dishwasher, but you waved him off.
“Leave it, I can do it in the morning.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow at you. “You sure, precious?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“A’ight.”
Rafe yawned into his fist and the boys started to collect their things. You were taken aback, having expected Rafe to find an excuse to stay back, maybe even stay the night. You did have the whole house to yourself, and it seemed like he didn’t even care.
Tossing the dish towel on the counter, you walked the boys to the door, leaning against the door frame as you hugged them good bye.
“Alright, guys. See you tomorrow. Thanks for dinner.”
The boys waved, one by one getting into the car, and you crossed your arms as you stared at Rafe through the tinted window of Topper’s car as you stood on your front porch. As Topper’s car pulled off your grounds, you headed back inside with a sigh, shutting the door behind you.
You were tempted to go to sleep right away, but the amount of dishes in the kitchen was taunting you. In all honesty, you’d have appreciated a little help from the boys, you only turned down their offers because you thought that was what Rafe wanted you to say. On one hand, you really didn’t feel like cleaning up, on the other hand, you didn’t want Kelly to feel obligated to clean your shit up when she came back on Monday. So cleaning up it was. You put the dried off mixer away, and started rinsing the plates and cutlery. You cleared the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, yawning into your elbow. Kelce was right, the sun shining down on you really had made you super tired. You yearned for your bed and for some rest, and sleep was near as you put in the last plate into the dishwasher. Just as you were about to shut the dishwasher and start the program, the hairs on the nape of your neck rose when you heard the sliding door to the patio open in the otherwise quiet house.
Fuck.
Didn’t you lock the door?
Your heart was in your throat, and you grabbed the nearest weapon you could find - a rolling pin - as you snuck into the hallway. There was no way that someone broke into your house, right? It was just your imagination?
You half expected to see nothing as you rounded the corner, the noise just being a figment of your tired self, but you froze when you heard steps come towards you so when you stepped out from behind the wall, you swung the rolling pin as quick as possible, hoping to knock the intruder out before he could do any harm.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
author's note: wait omg my first actual cliffhanger in this series
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targaryenrealnessdarling · 3 days ago
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Last Christmas
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21/12: Dressing Up and Dry Humping - Michael Gavey Word Count: 1.8k~ | Warnings: semi-public heavy petting, fingering, dry humping
12 Days of Smuff Masterlist
A/N: can be read as a little add on for this series
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Even though she's wearing many, many layers of thermal clothes, she's done a good job of making it look like at least half. Black tights, skirt and the worst Christmas jumper she could find in the charity shop. Though not tacky enough to rival the ones she had back home, this one was a close second. Garish. Bright. Unapologetic.
God, it really was Christmas.
A stuffy, hot room, filled with people and steaming roast dinners, one paid for bottle of prosecco by the unj, and then on the lash before they broke up for the holidays. Sounded like a good night to her.
It was nights like this that made her remember last christmas party. Whenever she thought about it too much, the heat began to pool in her belly. Back then, she'd been fearless. Sucking off Michael Gavey in the common room while a party took place next door? She'd never imagine herself doing something so brave now.
Although, she could be tempted. Depends what he was dressed like.
In all honestly it had been a while since she'd seen him last, he'd been so preoccupied with his studies and then when he was done, it was her and…their schedules just never seemed to align at all. Until tonight hopefully.
But as she was filing into the hall, weaving through the groups of friends who assigned their seats at individual tables adorned with candles and Christmas crackers, she realised with a burning embarrassment at the back of her neck she may have misplaced what ‘dressing up’ meant.
Everyone was in smart clothes. 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She was only offered a small relief when she spotted Michael, in a neat little button up and smart trousers. His blue eyes glimmered with recognition in a way that her stomach clench, until his brows furrowed in amusement at her…less than smart jumper.
“What the fuck is that?” he half laughed, trying to bite it back as soon as it left his mouth, judging the look on her embarrassed face.
She ran her fingers awkwardly through her hair, brushing it from her hot face. “I um…might have misinterpreted the theme…”
He let out a snort, holding a glass in one hand as his eyes did a full scan of her. Equal parts amused and appreciative. “Misinterpreted? I'd say you did a sharp left—”
She swatted his arm, semi-hard but not enough to hurt, “shut it. It's a Christmas dinner! I thought that meant…you know…festive.”
Michael bit back a grin, leaning over to grasp another glass to offer her, to at least calm her ever-rising nerves. She looked quite out of place amongst the smart shirts and sleek dresses.
She sat beside him at the table, her hands clasped under it to try and hide the design of her jumper somewhat. Michael in turn, patted her arm.
“Hey,” he whispers, quiet enough to not disturb the chatter at the table, “it looks cute. In a ‘holiday disaster’ kind of way.”
She scoffs, taking a tart sip of her prosecco, “thanks, makes me feel so much better.”
“You should,” he replied, leaning closer still. “You’re the only one who looks like they actually want to be here.”
She let out a breathy laugh, watching as the hum of conversation became laughter. Popping champagne corks, the air buzzing with sharp fizz. As dinner was served and alcohol flowed, combined with the holiday spirit, there was the slight edge of recklessness inching closer in.
After demolishing her sticky toffee pudding, watching as Michael beside her scooped the remnants of his crème brulé out the ramekin placed in front of him, she could feel her head swim, watching him. Even something so simple as the hair that curled at the nape of his neck, the slight bulge of his veins on the back of his hand…had that tightening tug in her stomach.
God what is wrong with me...
As the tables were pushed to the walls of the room and music blared, people began to crowd the middle, a sort of dance floor in lieu of a proper one. Those who were dressed posh, sleek, were now a mess of drunken excitement, sticky with alcohol on their skin.
Michael handed her another glass of prosecco, his eyes a little glassy behind his thin, black spectacles. “Come on,” he murmured, reaching for her hand without hesitation. His fingers were warm and firm around hers, and she didn’t even think to pull away.
“Where are we going?” she asked, stumbling slightly as he tugged her through the doorway and into the dimly lit hall.
“Somewhere less…” He gestured vaguely over his shoulder, where two students were drunkenly reenacting a scene from Love Actually. “...that.”
The walls were strung with fairy lights that blurred softly in her vision, the prosecco’s fizz buzzing in her veins. Michael turned another corner, pulling her into a quieter wing of the dorm, laughing softly as their hands remained clasped, glasses clinking.
They stopped in a small, half-forgotten lounge, the kind of place nobody bothered to sit in except during exams. A sagging sofa and a low coffee table sat under a window framed by frosted glass. They stood there for a moment, catching their breath, the air cooler and quieter now.
She smiled lopsided as he turned to her, giggling as her back met the wall with him crowding her.
“Better?” He asked.
“Hmm, I'm still wearing this monstrosity,” she snorted, gesturing down to her jumper again.
His gaze followed, but the flush on his face told her that he was likely looking at something else. In this enclosed space, pressed together in secret, she would be a fool to kid even herself that she didn't feel it too.
She laughs softly. A memory coming to her.
“What?” Michael asks, drawing his eyes back up to her again.
“No it's just…this feels familiar, doesn't it?” She smirks.
He raises his eyebrows, for a moment, unsure what she means. Until the realisation makes his lips turn up at the corners.
“Ah, last Christmas? i think I’m still traumatised by the sound of Jingle Bell Rock,” he quipped, his fingers tracing lazy circles along her hip. “Not to mention the fact that we were two seconds away from someone walking in.”
“Two seconds is generous,” she replied, laughing again, the memory as vivid now as it had been then.
She felt his breath against her neck as he leaned in, propping his glass alongside hers on a nearby window sill, the low rumble of his laugh stuttering against her skin.
“Different room this time, though.”
Her breath hitched but her smile remained, “It’s not exactly the same.”
He hummed, his hand tracing a ladder made up her tights, under her skirt. Her skin tingled anywhere he touched, and especially when he grazed against the gusset. So close.
“Michael, what—”
Rrrip!
She gasped and looked down, wide-eyed, to see his fingers hooked in the delicate fabric, a jagged tear exposing the sliver of black lace beneath.
“Oops,” Michael grinned.
Her mouth opened, then closed, words failing her as she glared up at him. “You didn’t just— those were my good tights, Michael Gavey!”
“Don't full-name me,” he smirked, pushing his chest against hers to further cage her in, his fingers maddeningly hooking into her underwear, relishing in the squeak of surprise she let out as he dragged his digits through her wetness. She would be ashamed to admit how the pads of his fingers combined with the cool air that hit her made her weak.
“Michael..” she warns softly, but he doesn't interpret it as one. 
He's come a long way since blushing terribly, stuttering and nervous with her between his legs.
Her hand found his shoulder, a silent moan escaping her lips, fighting to remain quiet as two fingers slid inside her, too slowly. Too agonisingly slowly. He crooked them forward, towards him, finding her sweet spot after a few moments of exploration.
She internally cursed him for giving him experience he could use against her. He's getting too good at that.
He mouthed at her neck, lowering to where it met her shoulder, pushing into her to the knuckles with a deliberately unhurried pace. She tried to rock her hips to encourage him, to save her sanity and go faster at least. But he didn't.
He was preoccupied.
The way his hips were rolling against hers, the solid press of him through his jeans grinding in time with his fingers. The stretch stole the breath from her lungs but she daren’t say anything. She could feel his breath hitch against her skin as he rutted against her.
She could feel his restraint unravelling slowly, the way his hands trembled slightly even as they worked her, the way his hips ground against her like he couldn’t help himself.
Her fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as he groaned softly into her neck. “Fuck,” he murmured, though the words sounded half to himself. His voice was rough, like he was holding himself back, savouring every moment.
Too drunk, too overwhelmed to rush him, she let her head fall back, biting her lip to keep herself from crying out as his fingers curled just right inside her. He was getting off on this too, and something about that made her heart hammer in her chest.
Her fingers scraped against his scalp as she felt herself clench around him, her lips parting to utter his name but caught by the rolling waves of pleasure viewing through her body. Through the haze she felt the grind of his erection against her thigh speed up slightly, until he groaned, a low shudder, as he drunkenly spilled into his boxers.
For a moment, neither of them moved, the quiet punctuated only by their laboured breathing and the muffled thrum of music still filtering through the dorm walls. His weight pressed heavily against her, his arm wrapped around her waist as though anchoring himself.
“Jesus,” he muttered after a long silence, his voice muffled against her shoulder. He lifted his head to look at her, and she giggled slightly and righted his glasses. He pulled his fingers out from her, but stayed nestled inside her underwear. “We should…probably get cleaned up before someone comes looking.”
She ran her fingers down his face, a look of soft admiration and a gleam of excitement in her eyes.
“Or…” she offered, stealing his attention, “we could make them really regret looking.”
She would never get bored of making him laugh, or smile. And when he did, her chest fluttered with warmth, his own cheeks flushed. The grin that stretched across his face was so boyish, so disarming.
“Just like old times?”
She nodded in confirmation, “just like old times.”
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General Taglist:
@1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @all-for-aemond @bellstwd @blackswxnn
@blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @cl-0-vr @eddieslut69
@emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust
@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @nixiefics
@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @sheshellsseashells
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theshiftingwitch · 19 days ago
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hey can you give me dream life scenarios to visualise please.(but idk my proper desired face)
BTW can I still manifest my dream life through SATS and visualising if I don't know my dream life properly yet like idk the small details and stuff. Like I know I want a big house but idk the design tye astehetic and I know I want look more pretty but idk my desired face.
Soo can I still manifest through visualising?
Before we get into the scenarios, we have to decide on what we want.
You have the basic ideas, but not the details, and while that might not be a problem, if you want to visualise I suggest you get a little more specific.
In this case, Pinterest is about to be your new bff!
Look up dream homes and find a few you like. Do you want a penthouse? A ranch? A New York apartment? A castle by the ocean?
Do you want floor to ceiling windows? Or do you prefer Victorian style homes? Do you want a pool? A walk-in closet? A home cinema? A huge Beauty and the Beast library? Do you want a porch? Or do you prefer gorgeous views from behind the clouds?
Then look up desired faces. Do you want to be blonde? Brunette? Do you want blue eyes? Green? Brown? Do you want a small nose or a gorgeous Roman one? Do you want plump lips? Clear skin? Piercings? Tattoos?
The world is your oyster 🦪
Now that you have a basic idea, you can start imagining.
✨ imagine waking up in the morning in your plush, comfortable bed and seeing your stunning view.
✨ imagine swimming in your own pool or planting flowers in your garden or browsing books in your library or baking cookies in your beautiful kitchen.
✨ imagine walking up to your mirror and seeing your desired face and body (as close as you can get, you don't have to be 100% specific)
✨ imagine your s/o spending the night, watching movies and eating your favourite snack together.
✨ imagine opening your bank account on your phone and seeing so much money you can't even count the 0000 anymore.
✨ imagine your report card, with perfect grades and stellar reviews from your teachers or professors!
I hope this was helpful, and happy manifesting ❤️
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fineprintedsunsets · 1 year ago
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AFTER HOURS
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This Is For Haunted Hoedown Day 7! | My Haunted Hoedown Master-List
summer camp au + "i can't stop thinking about how perfect we would be together"
Synopsis: Ari Levinson is a lot better after hours. 
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: (this is definitely a tribute to my childhood) good ol' angst. pool sex. dirty talk. lifeguard!ari levinson x f reader :). use of pet names "mama" etc. brief mentions of injury. unprotected sex. (reader is on the pill although never mentioned, #stayawaypregnancytrope) (wrap it before you tap it, kids) sweet, worried ari.
It’s days like today you find yourself appreciating Lifeguards more. It’s not just about shirtless men baring their pecs for the whole world to see, (although a bonus) It’s more than the praise and hero complex.
It’s about wanting to make a difference, to be a savior, sure, but going to bed at night is just a bit easier knowing you helped a human being breathe again. Ari was a lot like that, you noticed.
His tanned cheeks would lift in a slight smile when anyone congratulated him on his newest rescue. Ari didn’t care about the compliments, or how he was perceived-
“You gonna say hi, or just stare?” Lou’s voice breaks through your head, causing you to stutter, your eyes breaking from where Ari sits on his post, searching the pool for any trouble.
“Staring is good enough.”
Lie.
It wasn’t.
You murmur, continuing to wipe at the Snack Bar counter. The adults were more messy than the kids. Sweat breaks above your brow as the heat fills your veins, wishing you were inside the pool or inside an air-conditioner.
Either one would work.
“Those vultures have been gobbling him up all night, guess your one of them too,” Lou says, her brows lifting in amusement. She takes her yellow rubber gloves off and lays them down on one of the chairs The Snack Bar was designed with sliding windows that face the pool, mostly to receive money and dish out snacks, but you had found a much better use for it.
Oggaling.
Lou wasn’t wrong either, four women well into their 50s had been sitting out tanning all day, not even bothering to watch their kids. Each set of eyes had never left Ari’s body, and although you were just doing the same thing-
“Don’t say it’s different. It’s not.”
You huff, throwing down the rag on the table you were just wiping down, leaving it half-completed.
“Do you have anything better to do, Lou?” You get a glimpse of her ponytail and her small body. Although a pest, Lou was almost like a mother to you. “Summer Mother” that is.
Every year you worked at Camp Constaga’s Snack Bar. Although it meant switching TV for bracelet-making and campfires, it didn’t matter. If anything, you’d prefer the woods over home.
She flashes you her lucky smile, throwing a rag over her shoulder, making the edges of her uniform damp. “You know I don’t!” You shake your head, a smile blooming on your lips.
Lou tosses you a look, clearly seeing the blush on your cheeks. “Go!” Throwing her hand up in mock threat, she disappears into the back of the bar.
Yeah, that’s right, Go prepare the chicken nuggets. It takes you a couple of moments to realize she took your rag, the one you need to finish cleaning the tables.
“Bitch!”
The only sound is the rustling of frozen chicken nugget bags and the echo of Lou chuckling.
👙
“Shut Up And Dance” plays loudly over the pool speakers. It’s the anthem of every summer, and boy does it never get old. Night falls silently on Camp Conastoga’s pool, tonight is a very special night.
It’s glow swim.
It��s a camp tradition, every month they hold a “glow” swim. Kids and adults wear trippy bathing suits and a whole shit ton of glow sticks are thrown in the pool. It’s simple, but fun.
Really Fucking Fun.
“Lou! Where did you put the paint?” You call over the loud splashing of children. The lifeguards are already on duty, and the adult swim doesn't start for another hour or so. You see her signature auburn ponytail exit the bathroom, her bare stomach, thighs, and arms marked with glow-in-the-dark paint.
“Handprints? That simple Louie girl?” You tease, grabbing the paint from her hands. You bought a whole array of colors yesterday, the kids used all of the pool’s supply.
“I’m sorry, shall I draw a pentacle?” She adjusted the strap on her neon green bathing suit, pulling it to snugly fit on her shoulder.
You elicit a chuckle, filling the pool’s backroom with the ungodly sound. “It would fit, you are a demon.”
“Very funny.” Lou rolls her green eyes, sending them back into her head with far more exaggeration than necessary. Holding tight onto the bottle of green paint, you turn around, and walk away from her, heading to your cabin to receive the other colors.
“See you out there-” You choke down a strangled whine, your face colliding with something hard and solid. Pain shoots through your jaw, and the only thing you can hear is labored breathing and music.
Upbeat and happy music.
Not very fit for this situation.
A backless dress and some beat-up sneaks…
My discotheque, Juliet teenage dream…
I felt it in my chest as she looked at me…
And then darkness.
👙
Waking up in the infirmary was not the plan tonight. You blink your eyes, once… twice… You can see a window to the right of you, it’s pitch black outside. You stir, quickly trying to get up, but a hand on your stomach stops you, splaying against your belly and pushing you down.
You whine, squirming against the hand. It’s big and feels as if sparks are being emitted through your body from the fingers. When you open your eyes, you understand why.
“Hey-”
“Shh…- It’s okay, sweet girl.”
All it took was a few words to get you rising, slowly this time as Ari’s hand fell from your stomach, tanned fingers grabbing your elbow to ease you into a sitting position. The pain has reduced to a dull ache, you don’t focus on it, not when Ari is standing above you, lifeguard shorts on, shirt nowhere to be found, and is that…worry in his eyes?
You grab at your head, attempting to find the source of your pain. You must have hit something, now it’s reduced to just a small headache. “What happened?” The words you speak are discombobulated as you try to adjust to the light in the infirmary.
Children can be heard screaming and splashing outside.
So you hadn’t been put in a coma.
You aren’t going to wake up to a zombie apocalypse.
This is very good news.
“You slammed into my chest, I’m so sorry, mama.”
Mama? Surely it was just a name lifeguards give to crying little girls, it was a cute, sweet nickname.
Until it came out of Ari Levinson's mouth.
“What time is it?” You shift, still holding your head, expecting the headache to just disappear at your touch.
It doesn't.
“10:00” Lou answers from seemingly nowhere. Did she just watch that interaction go down?
When she steps in front of you, the gleam in her eye tells you all you need to know.
“Adult swim starts soon, I have to put my paint on.”
“Woah, you sure? You did pass out on us, mama.”
God.
Will he shut up and keep talking?
The heat that pools between your thighs isn't normal, and you can’t stand to be close to Ari anymore. If you would… there’s no telling what you might do.
Something you would regret. Ari doesn't even know you.
“It’s just a headache. I’m not dying.” The words have more bite than you wish, but this room is getting crowded, and the heat that encircles you is suffocating. Especially when Ari tilts his chin up, his fingers perching on his hips in confusion.
You didn’t want to be rude, but it seems it may be the only way to get out of this room.
“I gotta go get the paint.” You slid off the table, hearing the paper crinkle beneath your weight. Lou moves out of the way, and when she does, you accidentally clip Ari’s shoulder. You don’t turn around to apologize though. The heat is too much, you need to get that paint and get in the pool.
Even though being away from him has made the heat worse.
👙
Adult swim had started the moment you finished in the pool bathroom. All over your body are neon pink swirls and made-up symbols, matching your pink bikini. Ari sat perched on the very end, his eyes wandering over the kids complaining to their parents.
You were aware of the way your nipples hardened against the thin slice of fabric, how your breath picked up when Ari’s eyes landed on your face. His usual sunglasses were gone, and even from across the people, his blue eyes drilling holes in your body.
You turn away, internally wishing your hips wouldn’t swish as you did so.
They did.
Traitors.
“Hey! Over here!” Lou and Reed call from their positions in the water, the reflective surface bringing the night sky into the pool. Your head still ached, but enough that you could get some swimming in. You wouldn’t miss this night for the world.
You walk to the side of the pool and before Lou or Reed pulls you in, you jump. There’s a moment when you do so, where the rest of the world disappears, it’s only you, the wind, and the water you're about to plunge into.
The glow sticks leave a path to which you follow, feeling your breathing dissipate as you're pulled into the water, swishing your hair around, wetting the fabric of your bathing suit, and crowding you in cool relief.
It’s the polar opposite of Ari’s warm presence.
You come up for air, swimming to the top of the pool. Lou and Reed are already next to you, splashing from every angle. “What are you five!” You yell, despite doing the same, gathering water in the scoop of your palm and tossing it across your best friend's faces.
For the moment, for the night, you would forget about Ari’s eyes burning into your back, watching as you splash your friends, hearing your laughter fill the pool as it gets lost in the night.
This is purgatory and paradise at once.
Being away from him, but relishing in the memories you're creating.
Both hot and cold.
You sink into the water again, allowing it to swallow all your fears, soon they would come back, you were on after-hour duty. With none other than Ari himself.
👙
All of the adults left hours ago, Lou and Reed went back to their shared cabin, and the Camp Children gathered around the campfire deep in the woods. It was just you and Ari, and the simple task of gathering all of the glowsticks.
You let out a breath, your fingers finding the smudge pain on your hips as you stand over the edge of the pool. The sky is deeper than before, the stars shining bright above you. And the waning crescent moon, hidden beneath crowded clouds.
It was a beautiful night indeed.
“You ready?” Ari’s voice breaks through your head-space, before talking yourself out of it, you turn around. It’s hard not to roam Ari’s body, his tanned abs, his long blond hair, and his beard.
No one could ignore that, no one.
You stomp a foot on instinct. “No one could ignore it” was your excuse for “this man turns me on with just his smile.”
“Yeah.” You squeak, watching Ari’s arms form a perfect dive pattern, jumping into the water with ease. The glow sticks make it visible to you, how easy he glides, picking up each stick as his path goes dark.
You do the same, jumping on the opposite end, with less grace than him. Usually one of the other lifeguards would be doing this, but most went to join the campfire. The pool gets darker and darker as you pick up each glowstick, resurfacing every few seconds for breath. You break from your trance when something hard hits the top of your head, the headache rocking through you with a sharp pain. You know it’s Ari, he must have been going for the glow sticks in the middle of the pool.
“Mama.” Ari resurfaces, watching as you do the same, rubbing the top of your head.
“Are you okay? Goddamn me. I don’t mean to keep hurting you, sweet girl.” Ari’s hair is wet, framing his features perfectly. A dozen glow sticks reside in his palm, matching your own.
“Come here.” He leads you to the very edge of the pool, and although you shout at your body to stop moving, your legs ignore your pleas. The heat grows with every second you spend in lifeguards presence.
You both toss your glow sticks into the basket, as you pool yourself up and out of the pool, water splashing as you turn around to sit on the edge, your legs still in the water. Ari stands in front of you, not exactly between your thighs, but very fucking close to them.
“Does it hurt?” He asks, running a hand over his wet hair, looking to the top of your head.
“I’ll be fine.” You utter, looking away from him. This man will be the death of you. They kick up a little bit of water, watching it swirl at your feet.
“Look at me, mama.” Ari pleads, moving through the water, so close to where your knees touch his chest.
“Please.” It’s almost inaudible, but you catch it, you see the desperation in his eyes,
“Fuck, Ari.”
You don’t even try to talk yourself out of it. You jump back into the pool quickly, water droplets spraying everywhere as you grab the back of Ari’s head, pulling him down to your lips.
He’s surprised at first, but when you groan, feeling the heat of his lips, the way they kiss and wrap you in warmth, he kisses back. Moving you to rest your back against the side of the pool, pushing you gently into the smooth tile.
Ari pulls away first, and the way he looks at you, it seems as though he is fighting with himself. “Sweet girl-”
You bring a finger to his puffy lips, silencing him. “No talking, more kissing”
Ari doesn't pretest, because this time it’s him that’s pressing into you, water grabbing at you both, your tongues intertwining in perfect harmony. You both pull away for air, the buzzing sound of crickets overwhelming you.
“Do you want me here, mama?” Your eyebrows quirked up as your hands still rest in his hair, forever tugging him closer.
“I will take you anywhere, Ari.”
It’s all the permission he needs. His fingers come around to your back, reaching for the tie of your pink bathing suit. Your body racks with anticipation as Ari tugs, and the fabric falls away, revealing your nipples to the cool night air.
His breath heaves as he stares down at you, his eyes locking with the point nubs. He groans. “Your perfect, sweet girl.”
“Fucking perfect”
He dives down, taking a peak into his mouth, and swirling it around his tongue. You arch your back away from the pool tiles, pressing into his hardened cock. The water makes it easier for you two to move, as Ari nurses your breasts, you undo the string of his lifeguard shorts.
He removes his mouth from you with a pop, helping you free himself from the restaurants. Your top and his shorts are thrown with the glow sticks, forgotten. His cock is hard against his chest, even in the water it’s not hard to tell.
His tanned fingers find your bottoms, running over your stomach, until they're stationed at their ties. “You ready, perfect girl?”
Your breath fans, your response is merely a rasp as Ari crowds you, his cock pressing against your stomach. “No.”
“Good”.
The ties snap as he tugs at them, water crowds you, between your legs as your slick folds are exposed to the cool sensation. Ari takes your right leg carefully in his rough palm, lifting it to pin the appendage against the pool tile. He pushed further, his cock lining up at your entrance.
He wants this as much as you do.
“Open for me, sweet girl.”
You part your other leg a bit, leaving enough room for Ari to settle comfortably in between your thighs.
“Doing really good for me, this is going to hurt.” You nod, not caring.
The heat is bubbling, threatening to boil over now and the anticipation is getting irritating. Ari places a kiss against your temple, his beard scratching against your skin as he thrust, pushing the tip of his cock against your folds.
You yelp, grabbing at his bare back, feeling the water around you, paired with his cock dipping inside of you was otherworldly.
“That’s it..” Ari smiles, his unoccupied hand coming up to cradle your face, tilting your head down to where your bodies meet.
“Watch as you take me, mama.”
You do, with both pain and pleasure as Ari inches his cock into you slowly. The reflection of the water enhances his every feature, and the wins of his cock are pulsating with pleasure.
“Good girl, just a little more-” His voice is husky with need but still soft and caring.
It turns you on just the more.
“I’m gonna fill you up, Breathe for me alright?” His words are so filthy yet so… soft.
Caring?
Ari watches you, your eyes still on your pussy, watching it take more of his cock in, feeling the pain as he stretches your walls. You take a deep breath as he asks, and scream when he thrust to the hilt.
“Shh…Good girl.” Ari drags out each syllable as he whispers, his cock buried inside you, as his body fully presses into yours, his hand balancing your pinned leg against the wall.
“Can I move, mama?”
Words do not escape your throat, you just tug at Ari’s hair, clenching around his cock a few times, attempting to adjust. You nod as your lips collide, it silences the scream as he deals his first thrust.
Your heavy breaths fixate on the point of completion, each time Ari drags his cock out of you, more water fills its spot, adding stimulation to your clit. Your fingers wrap around the pool's edge, your eyes snapping shut.
“You take me so well, sweetheart.”
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you over that edge.”
Ari’s words make you clench harder, a smile passes his lips as he groans, feeling what he does to you, feeling what you do to him every time his cock pulsates at your tightness.
Your breath speeds up with Ari's thrust, your back arching against the pool tiles as he fucks you deeper into the concrete, making sure your head never hits the ground. The words that come out of your mouth are rushed, but nonetheless true.
“I can’t stop thinking about how perfect we would be together.” You say them with urgency with rush, as if they were slipping from your mind. Ari’s thrust doesn't cease, he only groans, melting against you.
“Me too, sweet girl.”
“Me. Fucking. Too.” Your orgasm is so close, it feels like you're drowning in pleasure. Your nails find safety in Ari’s back, holding onto him for support as his fingers dip into the water, finding your clit and begging to rub.
He knows you're close.
“Come for me, mama. Make a mess on my cock.” Ari echos, his cock fighting the force of the waves he’s making, slamming into you each time, his fingers rubbing faster. You whimper, meeting his thrust with your own attempts, chasing the pleasure. You clench down hard, “There you go…doing so good.”
Your orgasm hits you at full force as Ari pumps his cock, his fingers riding you through it. Until he halts, filling you with his release. The warm feeling settles deep into your stomach.
“Mama.” Ari finishes, you can still feel his cock pulsating inside you, his labored breathing slowing to match your own. Despite the cool water, sweat runs down both of your bodies.
“Your-” He starts, you giggle, deciding to cut the sexual tension. Ari’s brows turn up, waiting to hear what you have to say,
“Hot? Beautiful? Fantastic? Best sex you’ve ever had?”
“Mine” Ari whispers against your lips, shutting you up.
His.
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rachelsimbuild · 8 months ago
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Billionaire - Olympus Mansion - The Sim 4
More pictures and information here: rachelsim.mysapo.net/billionaire-olympus-mansion-the-sim-4
💖 Map : Any map you want fit the size lots - Size : 64 x 64
💖 Pack to used : High School Years - Snowy Escape - Cats & Dogs - Get Together - Get To Work - Spa Day - Vampires - Luxury Party - Notdefined
💖 6 bedrooms - 2 large living rooms - 2 small living areas - 1 home cinema room - huge men's and women's dressing room with nautical style - open gym - spa with yoga outside - sauna - outdoor dining table - rooftop party area - 1 children's room - professional live stream room - small swimming pool area on the rooftop - glowing tree garden - outdoor bar area - outdoor movie viewing area - 1 pet room - 1 employee room - 1 laundry room - garage - reading room - empty shelves containing items collected in the game and more.....
💖 Inspired by the mythical Mount Olympus in Greek mythology, where the gods resided to create a real paradise for Sim, this truly fantastical home seems to have stepped out of a fairy tale. Nature blends seamlessly with the house, its elegant design exuding sophistication without sacrificing grace. The house also features a luminous garden that shines brightly at night, with rooms that seem almost heavenly. Come and admire this exquisite blend of Greek mythological beauty and sophistication with me.
🌟🌟🌟 Download here : https://ko-fi.com/s/9df37e8464
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iceman-maverick · 1 year ago
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(temporary) amnesia/"I don't understand what that means."
“I don’t understand what that means,” Ice blinks. 
Maverick drops his head to hands and begins to say the alphabet backwards in his head to keep himself from throwing the damn clipboard out the window. 
“Ice,” Maverick tries again, “It’s a consent form. You have to sign it so that I can take you home,” 
Ice nods, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyebrows scrunch as he re-reads the papers in front of him for now the third time since the nurse began the discharge process.
Maverick can't find it in himself to be too put out, though. The bandage around Ice’s forehead must be bothering him since his fingers keep inching their way up to pull at it as he reads. Maverick, unwilling to stare at Ice in discomfort any longer, stands and crosses the distance between his chair and Ice’s bed.
Why they’d require a temporary amnesiac to fill out medical forms, Maverick does not know. But what he does know is that Ice is exhausted, likely in far more pain than he’s letting on, and that hospitals give Mav the creeps. 
All compelling reasons to get this show on the road. 
“Here,” Mav says, sitting down on the bed’s edge and plucking the clipboard from Ice's hands, “What are you confused about?” 
Ice has done a good job filling it out so far - no small feat given the massive concussion and head wound he earned himself this morning by accidentally smashing the edge of his car door into his forehead. Maverick had nearly had a heart attack when he found him crumpled in the garage in a pool of blood. So much for beating the morning traffic.
Ice has spelt his name correctly, has the right address, and even marked down the correct pharmacy around the block from their house. Mav squints his eyes - a perfect mirror of Ice before - as he combs through the forms to find the hold up. 
Ice huffs and points to the bottom section of the second to last page in the packet. It reads: Caregiver Consent Form. It’s a check list of the basics - caution when using ovens and other hot surfaces, no operating heavy machinery (Mav’s assuming that would include an F-14), and recommendations to lock up hazardous materials out of sight of the patient. 
Ice, clearly running low on patience and eager to get out of the bustling ER, draws his finger over the large paragraph of legal jargon that has Maverick’s eyes swimming. Ice points out Maverick’s legal name as Ice's designated caregiver and then taps on the portion of the form left blank: Relationship to patient. 
He looks back to Maverick, eyes wide, and asks, “What am I supposed to put here?” 
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Maverick blinks at the form. Relationship. Huh.
They’ve been living together for the better part of two years now with Ice having moved in once he joined Maverick back at Top Gun. And they’ve been um, well, together for pretty much just as long. They never talked about labels but it’s been exclusive since the start and Ice has been wearing Mav’s dog tags since January. 
Maverick doesn’t have the slightest idea what that makes them but friends sure as hell doesn’t fit. He smirks a bit, and peers around their section of the ER to make sure nobody’s looking. The ER is in total chaos anyways - nurses scrambling, children screaming, and what looks to be a fist fight soon to be erupt between two elderly women fighting over the lone issue of People Magazine. 
Maverick leans in and presses a quick kiss to Ice’s cheek, and then takes advantage of Ice's poor, frazzled state to snatch the pen from Ice’s grasp. Maverick delights in the flush that colors Ice's cheeks, and then he begins to write. Ice recovers from his shock quickly, sputters once he reads what Maverick's writing, and then shoves at Maverick’s arm.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Ice whispers furiously as Mav breaks out into giggles. 
“Alright, alright, calm down,” Mav laughs as he scratches out his now aborted attempt at Boyfriend. He instead opts for the safer Roomate. “It’s a Civvy hospital, nobody would’ve found out,” 
“You’re an idiot,” Ice huffs fondly, shoving again at Mav’s arm. Ice quickly glances around the place and decides that the cost is clear. Or maybe it's the pain killers dulling his judgement. Either way, Ice drags his fingers lightly down Maverick’s forearm and then intertwines their fingers. 
“Take me home,” Ice whispers. He squeezes once, Maverick squeezes back twice. 
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---
Congratulations! You've unlocked the prequel to my useless-whiny-baby syndrome ice fic (lost in admiration).
We're playing an IceMav askbox fic game. Send me a trope and a first sentence and I'll write at least one paragraph!
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fabseg-creator · 5 months ago
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just wanted to give a cute crossover art request idea but understandable if you can’t do it !
Ondine from Miraculous Ladybug scuba diving underwater and petting the small Bull Shark Pup’s damaged scarred dorsal fin
aka the shark protagonist from the game Maneater as its friendly towards Ondine and keeps her safe underwater.
Tho sneakily Ondine be quite protective of the Bull Shark and adores it a lot
while Ladybug using her Aquabug abilities be curiously talking underwater while swimming by Ondine’s side
and compliments the Bull Shark’s unique colour patterns and overall friendly ness to Ondine and her equally but especially the shark’s unique ability able to survive in pool conditions water temperatures aswell with oceans and rivers.
While Ladybug be gently petting the Bull Shark’s snout.
Details: the ref images were to help show what I mean
and what Ondine wears while underwater and what Ladybug’s Aquabug ability looks like and even the Bull Shark’s ingame design.
Ondine would wear her swimsuit and what she usually has on
but has scuba oxygen tank on her back while breathing from the scuba regulator oxygen mouthpiece in her mouth.
and light grey red diving mask on her face and pair of black red diving flippers on her feet.
Cute Headcanons: Ondine would communicate by underwater hand sign or gestures to Ladybug while underwater as she is swimming around and scuba diving.
and this would take place in the swimming pool area water originally Ladybug thought the Bull Shark was danger and threat in the pool
but Ondine helped reassure it wasn’t and was friendly but made its home in the pool and she looks after it.
Tho the Bull Shark is known to sneakily swim out and find its way out the pool and go to different waters it feels like.
Anyways pls take care and sorry for wasting your time. 🦈🤿🫧
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Your request/suggestion is interesting.
That was a hard work but I managed to draw a scene like that.
I wish you a nice day and a good vacation.
Bonus for you, some filter versions:
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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 10 months ago
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Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 41)
Tw: not that i know of
Part 42
Vote below pls i will only consider first 21 votes
Yves effortlessly carried you out of the back seat and placed you onto the wheelchair.
You gaped at everything while Yves closed his car door.
It's a stylish and minimalistic house with two floors. You like its modern architecture with sharp edges and boxy shapes, the walls and roofs are painted with black or various shades of grey.
It's much smaller than his neighbors who boast their colossal mansions and manors. Even if each owned land is similar in size, Yves's vicinity appears larger by tenfold due to how little he built. You saw some lawns even have a helipad, all other houses had a swimming pool of some sort and a garage that was as big as a shopping mall's parking lot.
Yves had none of that. It was just a relatively boring, regular sized luxury house. And with a small garden and a garage that fits a maximum of two cars.
You think he wanted you to look around, that is why he parked outside instead. His home looked... out of place. Not because he appears poor due to his lack of excessiveness, but it almost seems like he's hiding something from his equally wealthy neighbors.
Because how else is he able to secure housing in a neighbourhood that appears to accommodate multi billionaires? Yves has to be rich, but he refuses to show it, going against the norm. Is that not social suicide for the wealthy?
He lifts the brakes off your chair and pushes you towards the entrance. It's just a plain, singular door with no grand carvings. There is a metal gate that he had to unlock before accessing the next barrier, though. But it felt bizarre how there isn't some complex security system. Just a surveillance camera and two keyholes.
"Welcome to the place I call home, my love." Said Yves as he wheeled you inside.
His home is breathtaking. A dramatic, gothic interior design complete with a giant chandelier emitting soft, golden light. Black, greys, burgundy, ecru and browns were all you could see. It is exactly like the ones you would see in high end magazines, the epitome of opulence.
He has a brick fireplace that isn't lit, but upon further inspection, it's more of a glass box- an electronic fireplace that replaced the need for gas, wood or an actual fire. It's obviously not lit at the moment due to the scorching weather.
The lighting is nothing like you imagined, illuminance came from slender, golden lamps that glowed pleasantly. It's never too bright or dim, it felt perfect.
The windows quadruple your height and the blinds block natural outside light so much that you thought they were part of the walls, it's ridiculously spacious for its exterior. It was as if Yves managed to stuff an entire plane hangar into a little room.
It's cool inside, but not freezing. You couldn't find the air conditioner anywhere, you wonder where the cold air is coming from. No visible vents nor openings in the walls.
You picked up a nice, citrusy and vaguely floral smell with a clear note of sandalwood. It's very mild, almost unnoticeable if one were to be absentminded. But the general fragrance of his home fits the theme, sophisticated and seductive, yet enigmatic. You have no idea where the smell is coming from, seeing that there isn't an air freshener nearby.
It's so surreal to exist in such magnificence, you're afraid to touch anything else because whatever your eyes landed on, you knew that it cost way more than your life.
You told Yves that his design is beautiful. He smiled at your compliment.
"I'm happy that you like my sense of style. As you will be living with me for a while."
You asked if the bedrooms are upstairs. To that, he said yes. Scratching the back of your head nervously, you asked if you could stay downstairs until your leg is healed instead. It would be tedious going up and down with a pair of crutches.
Yves pauses for a bit. He had to hold his tongue as he would have told you to rely on him completely for mobility. That wouldn't have sat well with you as someone who values their autonomy to a certain degree. However, he would have gladly carried you wherever and whenever you wanted.
"I do have a guest bedroom downstairs." Yves appeared disappointed. You ignored that and told him you would take that instead.
"Very well then." He uttered, moving you towards your new bedroom.
__
You're surprised to know Yves has already moved all your belongings into his home. So setting up your new bedroom only took an hour. It seems like he was under the assumption that you will be staying upstairs, as he had to bring boxes upon boxes down by himself.
You grinned and leaned back against your comfortable office chair, your wheels resting close by. The room is almost five times as large as your previous one, everything is new and maintained. The aesthetic is similar to that outside, but it's more impersonal and plain. You assume that Yves would want his guests to customize their temporary living space to an extent.
The bed is fluffy and king-sized and there is an ensuite bathroom.
Yves hung up the last of your posters before bringing his attention back to you.
"Use this if you need me." He handed you a key fob with one button. It's safe to assume that you simply press it to alert Yves.
"I have duties to attend to." He bent down and gave you a kiss on the forehead. "I will be in my office, is there anything else you would like me to do, before I leave?"
You shook your head.
"Then, I will meet you later, my dear." He caressed your cheek before giving you privacy.
As soon as the door closes, you open your laptop and turn it on. The sound of your dusty fans whirring filled the space, it was loud and unnerving. But what could you do, you're too stingy to use the $5000 allowance from Yves to buy a new one since it's still working. You're not going to ask Yves to get another laptop for you either.
You clicked a few icons and began typing.
Yves frowned at his screen that's mirroring yours. His emerald eyes watched you type "Room rentals for university students" in the search bar of your browser.
He adjusted his reading glasses as he flitted his eyes between what is shown on his monitor and the conditions in your room. It's slightly colder than what you're comfortable with, so he adjusted the thermostat in your room.
After a few minutes of scrolling through the listings, once the temperature hits a specific figure, down to the decimals, you immediately close the window just to open up your favourite computer game. Seemingly losing interest in putting your life back together and wanting to distract yourself instead.
Meanwhile, you thought about what you wanted to do as you level your character up. There is no doubt that living with others is much cheaper, but you really wanted to try living on your own. Especially when you probably have the means to pay two months of rent in advance already.
Living with Yves is great, but you noted the lack of bus stops around. The rich wouldn't need public transportation, they have their own private vehicles and maybe their own hidden highways. That means you couldn't move around as freely and you would have to rely on Yves to give you a ride.
You didn't feel comfortable with being that needy with your boyfriend yet. Fearing that he might grow tired and annoyed with your constant requests. He has work and other obligations, he couldn't be on your beck and call 24/7.
Unless he hires a chauffeur, which from your past experiences, it wasn't all that nice.
You remember seeing an opening for a studio apartment on that website. The price seems reasonable and it's a 25-minute walk to your university, so you could save on bus fares.
You wouldn't need to ask permission from anybody, well maybe your parents who are funding your education and living expenses. Maybe even Yves to supplement more money. But in the end, you're an adult that has the right to make their own decisions.
Then again... money. Well, you'll burn that bridge when you get there.
You thought about it, pondering what your next step should be.
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tartarusknight · 2 years ago
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King of the Freaks | Part 7
Ao3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15
Steve had the guys over maybe twice a week as time went on, and Thanksgiving was just around the corner. Some days when they were over, Steve stayed out on purpose on others he curled up on one of the couches to watch them. And for the first time, he finds himself with others more than he is alone. Monday and Thursday are Hellfire. Steve still has swimming on Tuesday and Thursday but they already stopped doing Hellfire on Tuesday for him, he wasn’t going to let them shift to another day than Thursday. Most Wednesdays he spends with Dustin at the least. Sometimes more of the kids tag along but he doesn’t mind. He’ll give Max a ride home if Billy drives off without her. And he’ll babysit Will if both Jonathan and Joyce are busy.
 Weekends are still quiet but sometimes they radio him and ask for rides. But they’re generally quiet. He tries not to hate them but he does. He tries to stay busy by trying out recipes Jeff gave him or doing homework with the radio playing loudly but it never works. The sun goes down and Steve ends up next to the pool. He’ll sit and hug his legs to his chest. He’ll spiral until he’s shaking from the cold and barely awake. The sun starting to light up the sky. Then he’ll head in and head down to the couches in the basement. The radio on the floor next to the sofa as he passes out. Using the small throw pillows and blankets as he falls asleep.
 Rinse and repeat. Well, for the most part.
 Steve woke up from a pounding on his door and groaned. “Steve! I know you're in there!” Dustin’s voice called through the house and Steve stumbled up from the couch. He stopped at a mirror and ran his hands through his hair a few times before the pounding truly annoyed him. He pulled it open and on his steps were Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and Will.
 He crossed his arms and noticed Will murmur, “told you he wasn’t going to be up yet.”
Lucas glared at the other, “everyone’s up early on Sundays.”
Steve ran a hand over his face, “nope. Now, what do you gremlins want? Please tell me that Tews hasn’t been eaten this time.” He sighed and got a few snickers but Dustin huffed.
“My mom has brunch with her friends,” Dustin starts.
“Our moms,” Lucas adds.
Dustin shoves at Lucas, “and we wanted to go shopping for Snowball.”
 Steve blinks but then Dustin’s pushing his way inside. “So, come on and get dressed.” He stated, heading up towards where Steve’s bedroom was.
“Hey, dipshit,” Steve calls and waves the others in before jogging up the stairs to see Dustin pulling out a sweater and jeans for Steve. “Wow, Steve I would totally appreciate it if you spent your Sunday taking me and my friends shopping. Would that be alright with you?” Steve said in a mocking, high-pitched tone.
 Dustin rolled his eyes, “why’s your bed made? Did you make it before answering the door?” He asked instead. Steve groaned but changed into the clothes Dustin grabbed.
“I fell asleep on the couch,” he shrugged and headed into his bathroom. Brushing his teeth and grabbing a few things for his hair.
As he multitasked, Dustin snooped. “Is this car your dream car?” Dustin questioned and Steve shook his head, mouth full. “Has your room always been this color?” Another shake of his head. “I always wanted to repaint my room, you think I could convince my mom? Is it hard? What did you do?”
 Steve didn’t want to say that his mom goes through phases about every two years where she redoes the house to her liking. The old furniture goes to the basement or is tossed out. The walls whatever design she saw in the magazine. That his dad lets her do it to keep her happy. That Steve had never once picked out anything for his room, not even his sheets. He just lets his mom toss everything out of his room and redo it however she wanted. Hanging up a stupid car because it’s a boy's room, Stephen.
 He rinses his mouth and moves on to his hair. “Your room looks nice,” he says instead and Dustin sighs before launching into why he wants something new. Steve stays silent, just listening. Then he hears rustling and looks over to see Dustin pulling out the nail bat. The one he hid under his bed but apparently not enough if Dustin was able to find it that easily. “Do you play baseball?”
Steve washed the products off his hands, “Not with that." He jokes but at the glare he answers, "yeah. Baseball, swimming, and basket- and I used to be in basketball.” He fixes his hair up a little more before turning to see Dustin swing the bat with no proper form. “Come on,” he motions Dustin out of his room before tossing the bat back under his bed.
 The others are all over his living room and Mike is snacking on some of the chips Jeff left. “Hey dumbass, those aren’t yours.” He glares and plucks the bag from his hands. Folding it and moving to put it away.
“Why do you have chips here if you don’t eat them?” Mike questions and Steve pauses, looking back with a confused face. “Nancy told me that you don’t eat junk food.” The words feel like ice flowing through his spine. Of course, Nancy noticed how little he ate… she just didn’t see the truth.
He clears his throat, “their leftovers from the other night. My-” Friend? He shrugs and shoves them into the pantry.
 “Let’s get a move on,” he orders and the kids shuffle to the car. Only for Steve to realize there’s not enough room in his car. He looks at the car and the group of kids who decided to make him a babysitter. Sure, he could make them squish but it’s more than just an arcade run. “Fuck it, I’m gonna call a friend, then we can use their van.” He sighs and the kids complain that he’s taking forever even though he’s sped through everything this morning for the little shits.
 He goes to the phone and stares at it for a long moment. What if Eddie was busy? What if he didn’t want to deal with Steve today? What if-
“Are you going to just stare at the phone or use it?” Max snarked and Steve snaps into motion. Dialing Eddie’s number with far more ease than he should have. He’s called the man a few times. And sure Eddie’s been calling him most nights to say good night but he shouldn’t be so used to calling.
 It rings and he is almost ready to give up when it clicks and he hears a gruff, "hello?"
Steve freezes, Eddie's Uncle must have answered. Fuck. "Uh, hi Mister Munson, is Eddie there?" He asks awkwardly and shifts, watching the kids pile around his island, watching him. 
Then a muted yell then another before he talks into the phone, "he's coming."
 There's shuffling, then a tired “yeah?” Then a big yawn.
Steve glances at the time and feels bad, 9:07. He clears his throat anyways. “Hey, um, it’s Steve?” He says awkwardly and gets a snort from Max. All the kids waiting impatiently next to her. He glares over at them and flips her off before he makes a big shooing motion. When none of them move he looks to Lucas and Will who take pity on him and shove the others out of the room.
 There’s a pause before a smack and “Steve? Hey, what’s up?” Eddie’s voice sounds cheerful and it’s a giant leap from earlier.
“Uh, yeah, I was- well the kids I babysit were wanting to go shopping for Snowball, you know the dance? And my car can’t fit all of them. I was wondering if you wanted to join me. Or if I could just borrow the van. You don’t have to waste your day on me. I just- It’s not safe and I-”
“Slow down, sweetheart. Of course, I want to spend the day with you.” Eddie cuts in and Steve’s chest does something funny.
 Steve blinks, trying to shake off the weird feeling, “right. Yeah, great. Uh, I can meet you at the trailer. Sorry it’s so early, they literally woke me up knocking on my door. They’re little shits,” he tries to laugh but he’s too tired to get it perfect.
“No, problem, Stevie. I’ll have enough time by the time you get here to get ready.” There’s muffled noise on the other side before a laugh from Eddie. “Yeah, Wayne told me to get out and get some sun so, sounds like a perfect thing to do. See ya soon, darling.” Then the phone disconnected and Steve was left with Eddie’s laugh in his mind. An echo of sweetheart, Stevie, and darling in his mind.
 He scrubbed a hand over his face before marching the kids out and letting them squish in with Max in the passenger seat. Max fiddles with the radio until she’s satisfied with a Blondie song. “So, this friend of yours…” Dustin drawls out and Steve glances back at him in the mirror.
“What?” Steve questions and Mike scoffs.
The little asshole looks disappointed before they even see Eddie. “We’re not gonna have to deal with another jock, are we?”
“I didn’t think you had any other friends,” Max said and Steve’s gaze snapped back to the road.
 His hands tighten on the wheel but he can’t get mad. He doesn’t even know if he and Eddie are really friends after all. Maybe Jeff is his friend but the rest of them… well, all of them could be pitying him. “Yeah, I get it. Laugh it up,” he says sarcastically. “Just behave, I don’t need you scaring him off before we even get in the van.” He states and puts on a mask that is well-worn.
 The kids complain and argue but when they come to a stop in front of the Munson trailer they do quiet down. They let Steve walk up to the door alone and he knocks softly. The door swings open and an older man stands there in a flannel and jeans. “Uh, you must be Wayne, er, Mister Munson, sir? I’m Steve, uh, Harrington. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” he says awkwardly and Wayne raises an eyebrow at the hand Steve offers before taking it.
“Just Wayne’s fine kid.” He says and waves Steve in. Steve glances back at the kids and makes an I’m watching you gesture before he slips into the trailer. “Ed’s just finishin’ up. He’s not an early bird,” Wayne muses and he picks up a chipped mug from a fishing tournament it seemed.
 “I’m so close to being done,” Eddie calls from the room in the back and Steve can’t help but smile.
Wayne clears his throat, “so, Harrington, huh?” He questions and Steve goes rigid. He looks over at the man and he seems to be looking for something. He must find something because he frowns a little and takes a sip from his mug. “I didn’t care for your daddy.”
Steve smiles weakly, “You wouldn’t be the only one.”
The older man nods and waves him towards Eddie’s room, “go hurry my boy up or you’ll be here all day.”
 Steve nods sharply and goes to head back but Wayne stops him one more time. “And kid, you’re always welcome here.” He states and Steve knows who Eddie got his sheep herding habits from. He smiles and nods before he knocks on the frame of what had to be Eddie’s room. The door swings in from the knock and he leans in the doorway, the perfect image of calm and cool.
 He takes in the mess, the posters, the guitar, and the fucking handcuffs. Steve swallows hard and looks at Eddie who’s digging through a pile of clothes. “Sorry, I’m not finding my wallet. I think it’s in a pair of jeans or maybe a hundred different places. I’m not actually sure. Like I’ve tried going back from when I last remember having it but…” Eddie groans as another pair of jeans is empty.
 Steve moves further into the room to offer a hand but when he clears his throat, something else comes out. “Can you not say anything about Billy?” He blurts out instead of an offer to help look or a joke. It comes out all nervous and awkward like it couldn’t be stopped.
Eddie pauses and looks over at Steve, “yeah, course. I wouldn’t make you seem uncool or-”
 Steve laughs a little dejected, “dude. Trust me when I say they don’t think I’m cool. They watched my ass get beat by Billy already. I just- I don’t need them to know that he’s still, you know?”
Eddie stands and looks like he wants to pull Steve into another hug like the other day. (A hug that Steve still didn't fully understand but liked anyways.) But he doesn’t, he just nods. “Don’t worry, you’re secret’s safe with me,” He promises.
 Then he leans in close to Steve, arm brushing Steve’s neck until he pulls back with his wallet in his hand. “My backpack,” he grins and Steve glances back to see the bag hooked on the back of the door. Steve can only nod, his mouth dry as Eddie heads back towards the front door. He shakes himself and follows after him.
 When they get out they see Lucas and Mike arguing, Max and Dustin looking into Eddie’s van, and Will awkwardly watching it all. Steve clears his throat loudly and puts his hands on his hips. They all give him an innocent smile that only Will makes convincing. “Dipshits, meet Eddie,” he gestures to Eddie who’s got his black ripped jeans, an iron maiden shirt, a red flannel, and his leather jacket over it all.
 Mike blinks and immediately is bitchy, “wow. I didn’t think you’d have non-preppy friends.”
Steve snaps his fingers and points at him, “Wheeler you’re on thin ice.” He states and glances over at Eddie with an apologetic face. “Eds meet Max, Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and the only nice one, Will.” He points them all out and Eddie’s face goes through a few different emotions.
 “Okay, so let me get this straight,” Eddie starts and glances over at Steve, then the kids, then back to Steve. “You babysit Nancy’s younger brother, Jonathan’s younger brother, and Billy’s younger-”
“Stepsister,” Max interrupts with a sour look on her face.
“And Steve’s our friend, not just a babysitter,” Dustin adds looking a little annoyed to be labeled as a kid Steve babysat.
Steve moves and ruffles Dustin’s hair, “course, Henderson.”
 Eddie nods and tosses the keys up into the air and catches them. “Well, little ones I believe it’s time to embark on our adventure.” He says in his DM voice that has Steve smiling. The kids perk up and once the doors are unlocked, they scramble into the crowded back. It's messy back there but Steve knows Eddie keeps it clean enough for the boys to fit in when they need to.
 Steve sits in the front seat and jumps as the van starts up with loud music blaring. Eddie swears and quickly turns it off. “Right, yep,” Eddie gives Steve a small, embarrassed smile. “Uh, where to?”
However, it’s not Steve who answers but Dustin. Dustin’s head peaks out from the back, “we’re looking for stylish dance attire.”
Steve mouths stylish dance attire to himself as Eddie glances at the kid with a smile of approval. “You know Dustin Henderson, I think you and I are going to be good friends.”
  @zerokrox-bloglog @cyranyxx @adaed5 @the-redthreadd @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaringceyoustopcaring @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshitorthisshit @failedstarsandgoldencloudsds @bisexualdisastersworldd @deadlydodoss @anythingyouwanttobee @nburkhardtt @bestwifehaverr @thehumblefigtreee @megzdoodlee @swimmingbirdrunningrockk @mightbeasleepp @bxlthazarar @autumnal-dawnn @chillichatss @nonbinary-eddie-munsonon @the-daydreamer-in-the-cornerner @eddie-munson-is-my-wifewife @a-little-unsteddiedie @sharingisntkaren @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @0o-queendean-o0 @beckkthewreck @vi-an-te @vampireinthesun @newtstabber @dinosareawesome2137  @spicemallow @hellomynameismoo  @luthienstormblessed @briceslayed @angeldreamsoffanfic @dbquills @prideandsensibility @iwouldsail @ponfarrtimeatthevulcannightclub @spectrum-spectre @the-chilly-kat @yearningagain @loopsmd @starlight-archer @sleepy-time @goodolefashionedloverboi  @crazyshipper67  @sherrylyn628  @bidisastersworld  @v3lnys  @n0connections  cherixxx69  theotalksalot  tailsfromthecrypt  ledleaf  grimmfitzz  @pyrohonk
(SORRY I CAN’T TAG ANYMORE PEOPLE!)
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johnypage95 · 8 months ago
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evolutionsvoid · 10 months ago
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The Waniguchi is a rather visually striking species of amphibian that is found far east, dwelling within the many rivers and ponds. While some may assume it a kind of lizard at first glance, these creatures are actually large salamanders, bearing wide round heads and damp scaleless skin. What may cause this confusion are the numerous hardened bumps that dot their hide, perhaps giving the impression of scales. Some of these hardened circles grow to bigger sizes, providing a sort of crude armor for the salamander. Also running along its body are notable crests, believed to aid the males in winning over mates. While they are quite flashy, most people are drawn more to the head of the Waniguchi, which is said to have quite the signature shape and markings to it. The locals have likened it to a special bell that they have, due to its rounded flat appearance. Thus this species gained their name from that very bell!  
When it comes to their daily lives, Waniguchi pretty much spend their time either sleeping or waiting. They lurk on the bottom of water bodies, typically hiding in burrows, under rocks or tucked into crevices. They feed upon fish, crustaceans, worms and bugs, or any small aquatic critter that swims too close. Their mouths open wide to suck in prey, and then a multitude of tiny sharp teeth to grab hold! Anything they catch, they swallow whole, and then they either go back to waiting for more food, or simply fall asleep to digest the day's catch. Not a complicated lifestyle, but there is certainly beauty in simplicity! And I am sure there are some folk that are envious of an easy life of just eating and sleeping!
While the Waniguchi is by no means an utterly bizarre or crazy creature, what is interesting to note is its place in local culture. I mentioned before that the people have named it after a bell of theirs, but that isn't where things ended. These calm, simple amphibians are seen as protective spirits or guardians, which appears to be a common theme with salamanders in this region. They are also said to be wise, and their mere presence can bring about blessings. Thus, Waniguchi have been taken in as pets and shrine animals, given a place to live within sacred pools and ponds. If you find yourself at any shrine that has an ornamental water body near it, you can be sure a Waniguchi lives within it! The caretakers of these places feed them and ensure their ponds are in perfect condition, as it is vital to keep the salamanders happy! It should be noted that it is decades of breeding these salamanders that has led to the domesticated breeds having such beautiful head patterns. I can't imagine the amount of work it took to get them to have such a similar look to the bells themselves! That being said, the wild ones do not have nearly as intricate of a design to them, being much more muddled, mottled and dull. Regardless, they are treated with the same level of respect, and it is illegal to harass them or harm them in any way. I should point out that this includes throwing coins and random crap into their ponds! There are special fountains and boxes to put coins and donations, you clods! If you chuck that stuff into their pools, there is a chance they may swallow them, get sick or even die! So read the signs, respect the rules and keep your garbage out of their homes! Do know that if I catch you breaking that rule, than I too will partake in reckless stupid behavior and toss you into the pool too!    
Chlora Myron
Dryad Natural Historian
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"Waniguchi"
Not much to really say with this one, as I was not able to learn much about the Waniguchi yokai, but it was kind of funny that descriptions often called the bell shape "crocodilian" meanwhile the giant salamander is just sitting right there with the roundish flat head. 
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angelicyouth · 1 year ago
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Lavender ; Chapter 2
⇢ pairing: stan marsh x broflovski!reader
⇢ genre: summer romance ; soulmates AU
⇢ synopsis: ❝You looked forward to attending the sleepy, beachside town's famous carnival every summer. But not because you got to see your cousins or your friends after a year of not seeing them—it was to see the boy behind the ring toss booth.❞
⇢ [series masterlist] ; [previous] ; [next]
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// FIFTEEN:
“I fucking saw that, you dirty little cheat!” Clyde’s screeching loudly interrupts the otherwise tranquil heat of the afternoon, the boys and you gathered around your cousin’s backyard with your feet dipped inside Ike’s inflatable kiddie pool filled with water.
“If what you saw is all the nasty ass spit flying out of your mouth from all your fucking complaining then sure, Clyde—that’s what you saw!” Craig barks back as he roughly hands the yelling brunette his half of their shared popsicle, your tongue leisurely lapping at the sweetness of the one that you split with Tweek.
The two of you are leisurely sitting next to one another, your head comfortably resting against the blonde’s shoulder as you both lazily watch your bickering friends. You can feel Tweek’s damp locks of hair against your own as his head leans against the top of yours, perspiration beading at the hairline of the whole group yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to care with this almost torturous heat.
The sleepy beachside town has been met with sweltering temperatures that exceeded last year’s, causing the boys to be greedy with their ice cream and easily irritable with the weather. There was an operating fan in every room of your friend’s houses (except for Tolkien and his fully functioning air conditioning system) to which all of you yelled at Clyde when he unplugged one just to charge his phone.
Nothing deters the brunette as he yells out, “I’ll look for a fucking magnifying glass and a ruler just to prove to you that you made your half bigger than mine, asshole—I swear I will!”
But before the ravenette can make a scathing retort back, the glass sliding door leading to the house opens as Tolkien roughly chucks a newly bought box of frozen sweets at the wailing jock. All future responses are cut off as their hands hurriedly fumble to save the package before it falls into the water, the promise of more ice cream after this one ending their argument as their mouths wrap around their snack.
After devouring the rest of the popsicles, you all hop onto your bikes to race each other to the beach with the threat of the last person there having to stuff seaweed into their swimsuit. Not only that, but they have to go up to a random person of the opposite gender to try to get their number.
Your stomach hurts from laughing too hard when Clyde gets pushed towards his designated pile of soggy seaweed on the sand after losing, his nose crinkling up in disgust when a wet squelch signals its success in finding its temporary home. It makes him look like he has a full diaper on, the sight of it only fitting the childish pout resting on his face.
“What the fuck ever! This makes it look like I have some gnarly pubes or my dick isn’t as small as Craig’s micropenis!” The brunette snickers as he swiftly dodges the ravenette’s predictably upcoming kick, the rest of you watching as his earlier bravado suddenly disappears when a few older girls begin to giggle with numerous obvious glances towards his stuffed shorts.
After the humiliating public rejection, he embarrassedly stomps his way back towards your cackling forms before reaching inside his swim trunks to grab the now warm seaweed and chuck it at the closest person. You all scramble to dodge as you painfully wheeze, tears rapidly leaking from the corner of your crinkled eyes onto your heated cheeks. 
“Sick, dude! Don’t throw that shit on me—it was just stuck on your sweaty fucking balls!”
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
You felt stupid because you were fifteen now but you couldn’t help but to think of the stuffed flower at the bottom of your suitcase as you step through the familiar throngs of carnival rides and games. All too soon, the sky faded from blue to black as your group repeated the cycle of eating unhealthy food and riding all the rides on the boardwalk as your tradition from previous years.
Deciding not to tell the guys about seeking out Stan, you wait until the perfect moment to make an excuse before you slip away from the group for a bit. As you excitedly walk towards the isolated booth, you think about how you never once considered the possibility that someone else could be working the game instead of the familiar bleached blonde.
This causes you to pause in your steps and while your usual reckless abandon would have caused you to give less of a shit and continue your journey to the ring toss booth, you don’t. You’re not sure if it's because the students at school have made it a common topic to talk about crushes and whatnot at every given moment with this new age but you can’t help but to feel self conscious at your one-sided fascination with the older teen.
You’re used to feeling like a dumbass and not thinking before you act (you’re surrounded by Clyde and your other friends after all).
But now…
You can’t help but to suddenly feel scared of the hurt of the rejection you know will appear when the bleached blonde routinely dismisses you like he always does. You’ve seen girls at school cry for days when they’ve broken up with their significant others and while you’re not quite sure as to what you feel for the older teen, you can’t deny the attraction that forces you to stop by the booth every year.
Almost like a hypnotic walk, taking control of your body and leading you there.
Like a connection.
But before you can make a decision as to what to do, you suddenly jolt when a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders from behind, Clyde whisking you off to fall into line for another ride as Craig mocks you about getting lost. 
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
This is what drove you to sneak into the carnival alone before it opened the following day, despite knowing that you were definitely not supposed to be there. But when did some measly yellow tape with the words Do Not Enter ever stop you from going anywhere?
How could you not disobey when it looked as if it was prettily tied up in a bow to be given as a present?
People were busy getting ready for the upcoming afternoon so you went by unnoticed, resolutely walking towards the far corner of the boardwalk that was tucked away from everything else. Clyde had said he was surprised that the ring toss was still operating and you could see why—no one ever seemed to stop by yet as you got closer, you could see the lights and prizes that meant it was still in business.
To your relief, Stan was there. His pretty blue eyes were still stuck to the glass screen of his phone, yes, but he was still working at the carnival and he was still appointed to the same booth. 
This time, however, you don’t let the older teen speak up first this time. “Let me help you out.”
Your stomach clenches in nervous anticipation of your bold actions but your face doesn’t show it as Stan lifts up his head to look at you. A few beats of silence passes on by and while the multiple shades of cerulean hues were familiar, the bleached blonde didn’t hold an ounce of recognition in his eyes—again.
It hurt… 
Again.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.” The smooth lilt of his deep baritone awakens something within you after not having heard it for a whole entire year, your heart clenching painfully in yearning.
“No shit.” You respond back and you can’t help but to internally preen at the fact that you echoed his previous words to you from years before back at the teen. 
God, you felt like you were on a roll.
Stan considers this for a moment before his legs swing down to hit the floor in front of his stool, a scoff escaping his mouth. “Whatever. If some kid wants to do my job for me then I’d be an idiot to not let them.”
“I’m not some fucking kid!” You angrily retort back, to which the older teen simply ignores.
“I swear I’m not! I’m in high school and probably not even that much younger than you, you know.” Stan just shrugs and the dry responses ignites the familiar irritation that fills up your body every single time you’re in the presence of the apathetic teen.
“Unless you’re a dumbass who failed a couple of grades and got held back a few times. How old are you, then?” The bleached blonde hops off his previous perch on his stool, his arms lazily stretching upwards over his head as your eyes immediately zone in on the small sliver of skin being exposed at his waist.
“I’m 17.” Stan responds around a bored yawn, your attention going back to his face when the cotton of his shirt resumes its previous position over his taut stomach.
“That’s not even that much older than me! I’m going to be a sophomore next year—I’m 15.” Your lips automatically curve along your face into a happy grin at the revelation that there were only two years between the two of you. 
He really wasn’t some old fart like how he acts he is.
The older teen doesn’t respond, the metal of his keys softly dangling against one another as he unlocks something underneath the counter. You speak up again, “Let me help you.”
“I’m getting the prizes and shit. If you stand over the counter, you can hang them up.” Stan picks up a stuffed bunny and demonstrates by reaching up to rightfully place it in its display but you can’t help but to watch the way the silver of his rings prettily catches the sunlight over his longer fingers.
“My name is N/N. I mean, Y/N.” You stutter and you internally curse at yourself because you were doing so well at taking control of the situation and at taking the initiative to get closer to the teen.
“Stan.” Is all he supplies and you can’t help the frown crossing your face, your teeth biting onto your bottom lip because you already knew that.
You haul your body over the counter and get to work with putting away the plushies that the bleached blonde seamlessly hands to you, the older teen sitting atop the cold structure of the counter beside your feet as his other hand fiddles with his ever present cellphone. You can’t help but to smile in fondness every time a gentle breeze swings by, the soft caress of the wind causing the stuffed toys to dance along in the air.
“Hey.”
“Hm?” You distractedly hum back, watching the toys sway and say hello.
“Come here. I’ll show you how they fuck people over with this game.” And just like that, it’s as if you're an overeager puppy desperate to get its owner’s attention again as your trance gets broken and you hop down to land beside the older boy.
“They put the bottles really close together.” He mumbles as he sets up the glass objects onto the wooden table in front of you both. “So to win, you’d have to do it perfectly.”
“The rings are different weights so that you can’t get used to them.” The bleached blonde continues as you pick up different colored ones to test them out, and he was right.
“These are the order of the colors you should throw it in. You start with red because it’s the heaviest.” He throws it with a perfect arch before he grabs the next colored ring.
“Then it’s orange, yellow, green.” Each word is emphasized with the appropriate object as they beautifully twirl around the neck of the glass bottle.
“Light purple is always last—it’s the lightest.” You watch in fascinated awe as the rings all neatly lay on top of one another, like the rings around the planets of the solar system that Craig talks so much about.
That seemed to be the end of setting up as Stan drops back onto the stool to routinely tap against his phone, your eyes wordlessly staring at the disconnected teen. Clyde had said that he stopped entertaining other people that he didn’t deem worthy of his time except for his friends and you couldn’t help but to want that for yourself.
While you were loud and impulsive, Stan was quiet and deliberate.
He was cool in a completely different way than your older cousin. Where Kyle was passionate about what mattered most to him—of his studies and his morals, Stan didn’t give a shit about what other people thought of or if he pleased anyone with his actions. He barely spoke but every time he did, it felt hypnotic in the way where you were hanging onto every intonation and cadence of his words.
“You can come back later on tonight.” The older teen speaks up, your attention diverted from where it was watching his tongue dart out to wet the pretty pink of his plump lips. “I have to clean up after the carnival if you want to help.”
You beam in affirmation at the invite before you excitedly bound out of the boardwalk to meet up with your friends. When you tell them the exaggerated tale of you sneaking into the carnival, Tweek admonishes you in panic for the possibility of getting caught and banned for life.
There’s a secretive smile on your face as you shrug sheepishly.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
It was late into the night when you finally remember your promise to Stan, having lost track of time as Craig roughly wipes the remnants of cinnamon sugar from your lips and Clyde finishes the last bite of your shared churro. You tell the guys to just go on ahead without you because you forgot something and after much reassurance (“I’m not going to get abducted by aliens, Tweek”), you jog back to the far corner of the boardwalk.
“I’m sorry.” When you had shown up, the older teen was done packing everything up and now he only shrugs in response at your guilty face.
“S’fine. Going home now.” You obediently nod in reply but you’re distraught at how childish you still were in comparison to Stan for forgetting such an important event in the distraction of fun with your friends.
Taking a step forward to the direction of the entrance, you can’t help but to notice that the bleached blonde was slinking away towards the darkness of the beach despite saying he was heading home. You bounce on the balls of your feets as you decide what to do before you take off after where you saw the older teen disappear.
Trying to stay quiet was no hard task as you walked through a multitude of bushes and overgrown tree branches until Stan finally sits down on the sand, your smaller form ducking behind a piece of driftwood on the beach. Peering past the brittle barricade, you watch as Stan heaves out a deep sigh before he lifts his head towards the illumination of the beautifully present moon.
Your breath gets caught into your throat at the sight of the vestiges of light prettily caressing the visage of the boy in front of you, his gaze intense as the shadows accentuate the affection his face holds for the brightly lit object shining above the both of you. Stan’s lips part ever so slightly and you can’t help but to wonder: what was he saying in secrecy to the moon?
You wanted to know.
But, you were intruding. It felt like an intimate moment that you shouldn’t be a part of and with one last glance, you stand up to slowly back away.
And just like that, a floodgate had opened. As you ride on your bicycle across the quiet expanse of empty streets, you’re ridden with the thoughts that you wanted to kiss Stan. You wanted him to look at you with that deeply held fondness that he looked at the moon with, wanted him to whisper his intimate thoughts to you.
But most of all, you wanted to hear him say your name.
When you throw your bicycle atop the grass of your cousin’s front lawn, you’ll look up to the moon across the glass panel of the window when you’re tucked away in bed that night and ask:
“What were you guys talking about?”
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
// SIXTEEN:
This time, this year, standing on the boardwalk with your friends as they hand over your shared money to the person behind the ticket booth, you weren't going to assume that Stan remembered you. This was a mistake you made last year and the year before that but now you weren’t going to have expectations that could lead to any hurt.
It was your turn to be strategic—no more fumbled introductions or childish tantrums.
You were cool too, goddammit.
Steeling your resolve with one last deep breath, you walk up to the hidden booth. This was it—you were going to make Stan remember you this time.
“Hi.” You greet, the older teen looking up from his phone to nod his head at you. He looks as tired as he did the previous years, as if the universe just wouldn’t let him sleep but despite it all, he’s still as beautiful as before.
“Sup.” There is no recognition flickering behind his ever pretty eyes but that was okay, you prepared for this.
The stand is set up like it always is as you rummage through the pockets of your skirt to pull out the appropriate amount of tickets, your mind reminding itself of the order of colors to throw it in as he passes you the stack of rings. It’s almost funny how you remember, how clear the memory with Stan was when just yesterday Tweek was yelling at you for forgetting the tray of chicken nuggets you placed in the oven and letting it burn to a blackened crisp.
You pick up the red ring, the heaviest from what the older teen had told you but as you prepare to throw it, you don’t close your eyes like last time. Stan watches as it seamlessly glides across the air, the satisfying clunk! causing the corner of your lips to twitch upwards.
One after the other, you throw them in the order you remember until there was nothing left to throw. You made every single one, a beautiful array of colors with the pretty lavender color sitting atop the stack.
It’s quiet for a period of time as Stan squints at the perfect sequence of colors and back at the girl who made everything without batting an eye. “What the fuck. How’d you know the order..?”
“You showed me last year. Or did you forget, old man?” You teasingly smirk at the stunned expression on the teen, a satisfied thrum running along your veins.
“What? I showed you?” The skin between his eyebrows begin to crease in disbelief, “I don’t remember doing anything like that at all. Are you fucking with me?”
Although this meant that he forgot about you again, you couldn’t help the cacophony of butterflies that dangerously flutter along your stomach at the notion that you were the only one Stan had ever told that to. You want to stay a bit longer to make a deeper impression after your success but you made a promise of having a hotdog eating contest with Clyde later on so you had to go.
“I’m Y/N. And you’re Stan—I remember you.” There’s a blank look in Stan’s eyes as he looks at you but it was okay. Like you said, you were prepared for that to happen again.
“I have no idea why you remember an asshole like me. You won though, what prize do you want?” He stands up as he slides his mobile device into the coarse material of his jean’s pocket, your eyes breaking away from his form real quick to scan along the hanging prizes.
“Nah, I’m okay. I just like playing.” You flash him a wide grin, your pearly white teeth making an appearance when you see the eyebrow that he quirks up.
“I’ve never heard that before. You like playing rigged games or some shit? Or just ring toss in particular?” Ever so slightly, the corner of his mouth lifts up in amusement which in turn causes you to feel like you won a Nobel Peace Prize or some other great accomplishment.
Like usual, your mouth works faster than your brain as you impulsively say, “It’s not the game that I’m into.”
You internally shriek but outward you stay composed, tilting your head to the side when you see the older teen slightly part his pretty pink lips. “... Oh.”
You’re absolutely beaming in delight at this newly predatory position you’ve reached, flashing the bleached blonde a smile. “Later!”
Waiting until you were no longer in sight of Stan, your feet pick up their pace as it steadily hits the structure of the boardwalk in a thump-thump-thump motion like your still racing heart.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
Your head is laid against Craig’s lap, the ravenette’s longer fingers running through the soft locks of your hair in repetitive motions that threaten to put you into deep sleep. All eyes are on the television as you watch Tweek and Tolkien duke it out on the big screen, the incessant sound of a vibration against the wooden floor irritating the boys.
“Who the fuck are you texting, Clyde?” Tolkien nosely asks, his head trying to catch sight of the brunette’s flashing phone as he tries to dodge any prying eyes.
“Fuck off—It’s none of your goddamn business!” He screeches, the sheer volume of his voice causing you to jolt awake.
“It’s probably a girl, dude.” Tweek lazily says, his blonde bangs tied up into a mini palm tree at the top of his head to keep it away from his sweat-sheened face.
“Pfft, now you know that’s a damn lie. Clyde can’t pull for shit.” Craig snorts from his position above you, a high-pitched whine resounding from your throat when his fingers stop their soothing ministrations in your hair.
“Fuck you! I get enough, thank you very much!” The brunette is indignant as he harshly swats away Tolkien’s teasingly reaching hands away from his cellphone, the rich teen diverting his fingers to tickle Clyde instead in an attempt to distract him.
“Yeah, if getting some is kissing your own grandmother on the fucking cheek when you see her then sure, Clyde. You get all the retired bitches.” Tweek hollers out a loud laugh as he brings an elbow up to hit Craig in the ribs at his words, your eyes closed as you sleepily giggle at the burn.
“N/N got even more action than you when she was 13, Clyde. You’re a lost fucking cause.” Everyone snickers as you blindly bring a hand up to swat at the resident blonde of the group for bringing up that memory, a nostalgic grin curling at your lips as they teasingly push at your resting body for having game as a kid.
Your first year with the boys for the summer, you caught the attention of one beautiful Wendy Testaburger when she saw you by chance on the swings of the park with your friends. She knocked on your window to break you out of the house in the middle of the night, the pair of you intertwining your hands together as you both silently giggle off into the warm darkness of the air.
Surprising you with an impromptu visit, she led you to a clearing where the din of the luminescent fireflies casted her soft features alight in a beautiful glow. You both rested your backs against a magnificently tall tree that you couldn't identify under the inky night, the ravenette pulling out two lunchables for the both of you from her Chinpokomon backpack to snack on as you talked.
She had dropped you off back to your cousins with your first kiss as a parting gift that summer night.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
“Stan! Can I help you set up?” You present the older teen a soft smile, your hands clutching one another as you fiddle with your fingers as an outlet for your nervous energy.
He looks up from where he was staring down at his phone, an eyebrow quirking up at the sight of you. “How the fuck did you get in here?” 
“How else? I climbed through the tape, duh.” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms over your chest, shifting you weight to one side as you await for his answer.
He snorts but it’s still pretty, a lilt of amusement tainting his tone. “You mean the one that clearly says Do Not Enter in all caps?”
“Hm. If it’s made out of something so flimsy then it feels more like a suggestion, no? Whatever, I’m only asking because you let me help you last year.” You lean over the counter separating the two of you as he busies himself with unlocking all of the cabinets.
“You sure like to claim a bunch of shit that I don’t remember.” He hums before he stands to his full height, your breath getting caught at your throat because this is the first time you’ve stood this close to one another and face-to-face at that.
You lean back from your previously leaning position when you take note of his taller frame (not as much as Craig but still a fucking giant compared to you, holy shit) but you don’t back down. “It’s not my fault that you don’t remember me.”
He hums again in thought as he crosses his arms, “And that’s such a fucking shame. I feel like I would have remembered someone like you.”
You busy yourself with hopping onto the counter to sit because it’s easier to flirt when you can’t see the mesmerizing depth of ocean blue eyes. “Someone like me, huh? And what does that mean? Someone attractive? Funny? Charming?”
Your feet leisurely swing as they dangle from your perched position and from your peripherals, you can see Stan laying his palms flat against the counter beside you as he leans his weight against the structure. “I was going to say someone annoying as hell.”
“Fuck you! I don’t have to go out of my way to provide you free labor just for you to be a piece of shit meanie!” Your cheeks angrily puff out as your lips curl into a pout.
“Boo-fucking-hoo. If you don’t like the working conditions then quit.” Is all you get before he shoves a box full of glass bottles into your arms.
You mutter to yourself as you petulantly place them onto the wooden table until you catch sight of Stan watching you. “Close together so that they can fuck you over, right?”
“Yeah, all the games are rigged here.” He says before he resumes his task of hanging up plush toys but you already know because he told you that before.
“This stand isn’t very popular.” You remark when the two of you are done setting the booth up and are standing under the shade provided by the hanging prizes.
He waves off your words, “Like I give a shit. Not my fault that the stand’s hidden in the asscrack of the boardwalk.”
Sending him a judgemental glance, you scoff at his response. “Pretty sure it is your fault. You’re a fucking asshole, dude. It’s like 30 degrees colder here compared to the rest of the boardwalk because of your shitty personality.”
“Says you. You show up every year, apparently, and now you’ve snuck in early to force your help onto me. Which I don’t get any fucking tickets for, by the way. ” The taller teen sends you a condescending look back.
“Who gives a shit about some tickets when you get to hang out with me!” You boldly declare, presenting the older boy with a shit eating grin.
The bleached blonde simply narrows his eyes down at you, “Like that’s any form of compensation. What, your mom let you out of the house dressed like that?”
You look down at your skirt as the soft material flutters along with the wind. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m here with my aunt, first of all. And fuck you—people loved my outfit when I wore it to a party once.”
The older teen just sends you a look, as if communicating that he never asked for an explanation. “Well the party you went to probably sucked ass, then.”
“I mean, parties fucking suck in general when you’ve been to enough. It’s fun at first but it’s repetitive so it gets pretty tiring.” You mumble, honestly reflecting your personal experiences from the high school parties you often get dragged to.
“Hm? What happened to you?” He lazily asks, a well-welcomed breeze caressing both of your locks of hair against the harsh sun rays.
You think about how you made out with a boy who had similar bleached blonde hair and couldn’t get yourself to go through with it when you began to imagine that the larger hands trailing down the skin of your waist was Stan’s. Or how the only reason you agreed to get locked in a closet during a game of seven minutes in heaven was because the deep lilt of the boy you went in with sounded similar to Stan’s baritone voice.
“... Peer pressure, lots of confusion. Don’t worry though, I don’t think I’ll be doing those things again.” Your voice is soft between the space of the booth you’re standing in, your fingers fiddling with the creases in between the folds of your top.
“Good—I don’t know what I’d do without my worthless assistant if they got into shit.”
Your mouth parts to give a scathing retort but you pause when you see the sight of a gentle curl along Stan’s lips for the very first time.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
“Back to torment me?” Is what greets you when you come back the following day before opening, the older teen in his usual laid-back position atop his stool.
You roll your eyes, “Fuck off. You don’t even have to do anything—I can do all of this shit by myself and with my eyes closed.”
“Like that means anything. A fucking baby could do this.” He lazily scoffs.
As you get to work, your body goes through the motions now ingrained into your body as taught from the taller teen while Stan sits back and relaxes. When you stop in front of one of the floor to ceiling mirrors that make your body look all wonky for comedic effect, you can’t help but to pause in front of the panel of glass.
Because from the reflection, you could see Stan watching you.
Not that he was making eye contact with you, but the bleached blonde was watching you work without knowing that you had caught him in the act. It was a different type of attention from the years of disinterest that it made you smirk to yourself at this newfound knowledge.
Slyly, you take off the jacket adorning your frame as if it was bothering you because of the sweltering heat. You see how Stan’s eyes slowly darken as they take in the expanse of newly exposed skin with this new but special kind of attention, leisurely dragging his sight across your body as if he had all the time in the world to admire your form.
When you leave the booth later on to meet up with your friends, you notice how he doesn’t call you a kid anymore.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
“Hey. Show me how to play this game again.” You ask, Stan staring up at you with his leg tucked under his chest as usual but without a phone in sight.
“Light work.” He scoffs, a cocky lilt to his voice at the simple request.
You slip inside the booth as you internally preen at the fact that you’re the only person that Stan would let in like this as you drag your fingers across the necks of the glass bottles. “Get them all over just this one bottle then.”
He smirks, the handsome expression making your insides warm at how attractive his confidence is. “Like I said: fucking easy.”
“Then show me.” You stick out your tongue at him as you step back outside of the booth, your skirt following the movement of your body.
“Got a ticket for my troubles?” Rolling your eyes, you flick the paper at him as he steps beside you, his ring-adorned fingers flexing in preparation to throw.
His aim is precise as always as he goes through the order of the colors imprinted in your mind, all until he has just the light purple ring in his hold. He sends you a glance and you can’t help but to notice that it’s with the same attention from when he looked at you in the mirror earlier in the day. But this time, you make eye contact.
His hand wobbles before the worn out object clatters onto the ground.
Your eyes widen in surprise as you don’t understand what was going on because you’ve never seen Stan lose composure, your head quickly whipping back to the side to look at the older teen beside you. He looked… Angry.
“Seriously? Don’t lose on purpose just to make me feel better. I’m not a fucking kid anymore no matter how much you think I am.” Scoffing, you walk towards the fallen item as you place it back against the counter.
“I didn’t lose on purpose.” His voice is quiet, back to his usual self again.
“What then? Forgot how to play, old man?” You tease, collecting all of the rings from the bottles to gather them back into one pile on the counter.
“Want me to teach you how? It’s free of charge since I feel so bad.” Snickering, you resume your previous position beside the taller teen.
“I taught you first.” He grumbles back as you perch yourself atop the counter, leisurely swinging your feet back and forth in delight.
“Red is first.” Stan rolls his eyes at your words before he picks up the aforementioned ring, his hands still trembling ever so slightly.
You quirk an eyebrow when you notice, jumping down beside the bleached blonde to reach for his wrist in an effort to guide him into a throw. The second your skin touches for the first time, however, the older teen gasps at the contact as the second ring of the night meets its demise on the ground.
“Holy shit! I’m sorry—” Cutting off your words, muscular arms wrap around your waist to which you immediately wrap your own around broad shoulders.
Leaning his weight against your body, you try to keep the both of you upright as he burrows his face into the safe solace of your neck and a shaky breath hits your exposed skin. It’s quiet for a moment as you don’t know what to do, confused and begging anyone that was listening to make it so that Stan couldn’t feel how quickly your heart was beating underneath your chest.
You stay that way for the rest of the night with Stan oddly quieter than usual, the teen not responding as he stays in your embrace whenever you try to fill the space with meaningless talk. When he gives you a wordless goodbye in the form of a gentle nudge when people begin to leave the boardwalk, you hurriedly rush to speak up in your immense confusion to the events that transpired.
“I’m leaving tomorrow.” But he still doesn’t answer.
Your hands clench around the soft material of the shirt adorning his frame, “Please say something. I don’t want you to forget about me again.”
Like you always do.
Finally, Stan pulls away and looks at you. “I don’t think I’ll forget someone like you. I don’t even know why you’re so dead-fucking-set on getting to know an asshole like me in the first place.”
You silently watch as he returns behind the counter of the booth, his hands rummaging between tufts of plushed toys before he pulls out a cute star. “Here—as payment for helping me because I don’t want to owe a shithead like you anything. Something to remember me by and because it looks like you.”
Gently grabbing the proffered item, you smile as you whisper. “You’ve said that to me before, asshole.”
When the thoughts of what had occurred crowd your mind on your ride back home, you’ll hug your new gift to your chest as you think about how you’d never forget Stan.
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gyllenhaalstories · 6 months ago
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Hi Laurie! Very important ice cream questions are delievered right to your doorstep:
For your top 3 favourite characters at the moment: What is their favourite ice cream? Do they like to try new flavours or do they stick to the classics? Best occasion to eat it and best way to eat it? Coup, cone, fancy cone, out of the tub?
Kisses, love and spaghetti ice cream for you, byeeee 💖🍝
thank you for exposing my poor knowledge of ice cream flavours (i'm a simple girl, i like my soft serve vanilla & chocolate swirl). i have about 8 tabs open of lists of popular flavours, i'm putting in all the work and research because this is an important question! thank you for sending it back to me! i'm craving ice cream now! 💖🍦
divider credits: @/firefly-graphics (i've always wanted to use this cute ice cream truck divider, thank you for giving me the best opportunity to use it!)
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RUSTY SABICH
cherry something. ben & jerry's cherry garcia, cherry cheesecake, just cherry related ice cream. or a very good quality vanilla bean ice cream, the one with tons of vanilla specks in it. he has his designated bowl in the cupboards, he never waits enough for the ice cream to chill a bit so it's always too hard and he always gets frustrated when he scrapes some off the top and it goes flying on his face. rusty is not known for his patience. i think barbara would appreciate pistachio or a good dark chocolate ice cream, so he steals some from hers but he never tells her. he mostly eats ice cream at home, sitting in the couch with his family or in the sun room on a rainy day that prevented him to go out for a swim.
i love how we both agree on the fact cherry ice cream is for cheaters (he probably genuinely enjoys maraschino cherries, there's truly something wrong with that man). yeah of course he's my top current fave character right now because i'm pathetic just like him. sigh.
ELWOOD DALTON
sorbet, specifically mango. i don't know what kind of fruits grow in the florida keys. if the university of florida says mango can grow in the keys, then mango can grow in the keys. i think coup is best with sorbet and i believe dalton would love to stick to the pure flavours of the fruit (similar to the dark cuban coffee), but he secretly likes to pick the tiny colourful plastic scoop that matches the funky shirt he is wearing.
i don't see dalton as much of a dessert guy anyway, he doesn't go out of his way to get some but he'll happily eat whatever dessert you buy or bake for him. i like to think that laura invited him to go out for ice cream the same way she offered him a ride and he said no the first time but then she teased him the next day about how yummy the ice cream was and then he was like :) okay :) and she invited him again and he accepted (this time it was only the two of them) and he had mango sorbet, he didn't really care what he was getting anyway. laura probably told him it was good, fresh local fruit and everything, and it became his favourite after the first bite. mostly because she seemed happy he liked her suggestion. he's very nice and charming with the workers so he always gets an upscale, whether it be an extra scoop or he gets offered the large size even if he paid for the small.
TOMMY CAHILL
cookie dough or cookies and cream. he's definitely the most likely out of this list to try new flavours, he just wants to try them all at least once in his life. these two are his favourite. if he's out and about, stopped at an ice cream truck or a proper creamery, he gets the normal sugar cone (with extra napkins, he always makes a mess). he can go for a dipped cone as well if he's feeling fancy. if he's eating at home, he definitely stirs his ice cream until it turns into a milkshake.
most of his ice cream related memories involve his nieces, isabelle and maggie. he takes them out for a swim at the pool or out at the park where he pushes their swings extra high (in the safest way possible) or even goes down the slide with them and their reward is an all you can eat ice cream buffet aka one cup they can fill with whatever toppings they want. grace and sam absolutely hate him for it, he brings back two hyper kiddos on a sugar high but tommy is just happy to have fulfilled his uncle duties. he made it into some kind of game as to who can make the craziest concoction. the kids would go for gummy bears with strawberry ice cream and sprinkles convinced that they won the contest, but then tommy would show up with a mountain of crushed oreos, mini m&ms, choco chips, drizzled with all the sauces they had and he would easily win. he'd get sick afterwards (probably because the girls ended up sharing his ice cream and he had to eat theirs instead) but it would be their favourite way to celebrate the end of summertime before school starts again.
DANNY SHARP (bonus teehee)
salted caramel. waffle cone. topped with a waffle cookie on top. danny strikes me as a caramel syrup person for some reason, so he probably asks for extra drizzle of it on top when he needs an even bigger pick me up. he has to eat it in secret, go to the creamery alone, so he doesn't hear castro begging to tag along (he will go out for ice cream with castro every once in a while and he will pay for his three scoops sugar extravaganza and he will complain about it although he secretly likes to make his employee/friend/flamingo zookeeper happy).
my first thought was neapolitan because he wouldn't need to choose so he could have a bit of all flavours (less anxiety inducing). that was probably his favourite as a kid, he could share with will and let his brother have his fave flavour. my second thought was distinguished ice cream to enjoy while wearing a cashmere sweater so that's why i switched my answer.
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smol-guppy-wuppy · 9 months ago
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Mermaid au info dump time!!!! Not really a properly written thing but rather a rambly mess but hopefully y'all get the gist... This literally only started because of this one time I drew leon as a merman for mermay lol. ALSO!! I AM WORKING ON OTHER CHARACTERS FOR THE FANTASY AU. RN I'M WORKING ON ANOTHER OC AND JILL SO STAY TUNED FOR THAT!
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Info dump below!
Quinn and Avery (my other resident evil oc, Quinn's best friend) babysit Sherry because they work for the Berkins (her family) as assistants before their own careers take off (Quinn 21, Avery 19). So they decide to take her to the beach (it's a private one owned by sherry's family/the company they work for idk). And while they're there they're messing around, being loud, and just having fun!
Now some friends down below were also doing something similar and heard the ruckus above. Claire (Leon is already friends with all the main racoon city people at this point, so claire, chris, jill, rebecca) decides to investigate and pokes her head out of the water.
Sherry is the only one who notices her but by the time she points it out to Quinn and Avery, she's gone. So they pay it no mind but Sherry is determined to see what it was so she heads towards the water. A particularly nasty wave knocks her off balance and she gets swept in with a shriek which alerts them.
Upon seeing this, most of the merfolk swim away, afraid of catching more attention than necessary but Leon stays. He ends up securing Sherry just as Quinn dives into the water to get her. So now Quinn sees this strange man under the water who's holding Sherry and they lowkey freak out before Leon just calmly hands her to them. They're like. stunned for a moment but are quick to swim back up with sherry in tow.
After they make sure she's okay, they decide that that was enough beach for the day. Quinn didn't mention what they saw but Sherry raved on about how she saw mermaids while she was under there (Avery assumes it was just her seeing things because of lack of oxygen).
So after they get Sherry home and tell her parents everything, they decide that Sherry isn't going to be around water like that for a while, which Sherry isn't happy about but yeah.
Later when Quinn and Avery go their separate ways, Quinn decides to go back and investigate. They end up calling out in hopes of being heard and thankfully they were! You can see that as art here (leon's design is more updated there)
Upon hearing their calls Leon hesitantly pops out of the water, curious as to why they were back there. Quinn just goes and says they wanted to thank him but also ask a few questions about him and what exactly he was.
So they talk for a while before Quinn has to leave and that goes on for a little while. Them visiting in secret and just chatting and getting to know each other ya know?
But soon Quinn stops visiting and Leon doesn't know why. The reason is that Quinn ends up leaving for school for a while which leaves Leon to think they got tired of him.
But like 6 or so years later, Quinn comes back to that same beach where they met (re4 looks for the characters at this point and leon is a little sad and emo because of some stuff he had to deal with idk what specifically yet but basically the same ol re4 leon just a little less intense lol).
They didn't think Leon would be there but they wanted to relive the nostalgia of being there.
They end up reading on the pier while humming to themselves before they find themselves growing bored. Soon enough they decide to go for a swim and end up stumbling across a small opening in the rocks under the water that they'd never noticed before. It piques their curiosity, so they go and explore. They manage to squeeze themselves through and end up in a cave beautifully illuminated by some kind of bioluminescent algae.
Quinn notices that there are several different pools inside the cave including the one they had arrived from. Upon noticing them, they assume they're each connected to other points of entry. With a spark of curiosity they decide to look around the cave more, but before they can proceed further, a large splash catches their attention.
Their attention shifts to the direction of the noise and they spot a figure emerging from the water. The figure turns and spots them and the two of them immediately freeze.
It's… Leon? (Turns out the cave is his own secret spot he likes to go to in order to be alone with his thoughts)
It's a silent staring contest for a while until he's like. Is that really you? And Quinn is immediately touched that he remembers them while Leon well. He's happy they remember too but also he's really upset that they left for so long without saying anything.
So Quinn goes on to explain that they left for school to be a proper marine biologist and that they wanted to study sea life. But he gets all huffy and is like. I'm literally sea life??? Why couldn't you stay to do that here??? And they have to further explain that. isn't how it works.
Leon is still a bit salty over the situation, but they both eventually come to an understanding. So the visits continue with Quinn promising that they won't be leaving again (at least not without telling him). Eventually the two introduce each other to their friends and stuff and fall in love at some point and yeahhh I'll probably figure out more stuff eventually idk
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