#UP bus accident news
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mithridacy · 1 month ago
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transfer buses love to be suddenly 30 minutes delayed when youre going to work
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indigo6f00ff · 1 year ago
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funny update a couple of months later for People Who Want to Know: i dont have the car that got me into this Incredibly Minor Accident anymore. while after the accident, i did have to get the brakes serviced (wow, they were faulty, who knew!), it proceeded to have Several More Issues, such as: the transmission being fucked up and Trouble With Turns. i still drove it regardless because i needed that shit to get to college but eventually the radiator fan stopped working on it (where it would start overheating if the car wasn't moving (if the car was moving then air could still blow over the engine, cooling it down)) and My Mother deemed it too dangerous to drive. RIP to the shitty 2012 jeep liberty hand-me-down with 200k miles that led to the creation of the Kim Moment(TM).
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need to share an experience i had 30 minutes ago
(edit: thanks to @walks-the-ages for providing and reminding me to put alt text, sorry it slips my mind alot lol)
#also i have not had any Kim Moments since. SAD!#very funny to me all the people with systems relating w/ this. unfortunately my brain likes to play with characters like dolls and it will#do this to me sometimes. shoutout to the times when someone would text something to me and then id envision what one of my OCs would respon#with in my head. adhd hyperfixation moment if i can be quite honest.#also i never got a follow up from the other guy that i got into the accident with so im assuming his car is okay. thumbsup emoji#and i havent been in any accidents since so erm... w for me!#(i have only been driving this new car for like 5 days and im Nervous. and ill be driving it more than my old car because im Getting Job#soon.... ough)#i remember the day that My Mother decided the car was too unsafe to drive very clearly. because it happened recently.#for some context: i live 30 minutes away from one of the campuses of my college. but the campus i need to actually attend (because it's the#campus with all of the IT shit at it woo network admin) is a full on hour away and also located inside a big city. thankfully the campus i#live near has a service that sends a bus between those two campuses so i can drive to that campus#and then get on the bus for the remaining 30 mins it takes to get there#now imagine you're me. because of fears developed by having Childhood ADHD i am very afraid of being late for ANYTHING. because i need to#rely on the bus schedule between the two campuses#every day i make sure to leave at least 30 mins earlier than i realistically could. this is both because if i dont i'll be Late To Being#Early but also despite my route not going across any major roads#i live in Suburban Bumfuck Town and the two-lane roads i use to travel are the exclusive lifelines to the rest of Everywhere Fucking Else#so they have a tendency to get backed up when backups happen in Everywhere Fucking Else (could specify more but i dont wanna doxx myself :p#cue The Day. i am Driving to College. i already have some knowledge that my car seems to have some trouble with cooling itself down#but i'm not sure what the cause is or how big of a problem it is yet. unbeknownst to me an Accident has occured on one of the major routes#in my area. as I'm approaching to be about 10 mins away from the campus i start to see evidence of The Traffic because of this.#while being just a dinky two-lane road this shit is practically bumper-to-bumper. moving at a snail's pace#and i imagine it's likely because people are being jackasses about merging onto this road from the people who have had their route#unexpectedly diverted because of the accident.#so im sitting there in the traffic. the car is not moving or it is moving very slowly across short distances.#DING! goes the car. ah crap the engine temp is starting to get high... maybe being stopped is what causes it i think to myself#so now i am Slightly Worried. the car has Dinged. and i might even be Late to School because of the traffic. but surely the cars gonna be#fine driving me the rest of the way right?#advance forward in time about like 5 minutes. i have moved forward but not much. i am near the gas station i usually refill at en route
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jadevine · 10 months ago
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Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that
Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/
I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.
Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask
Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember
Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my
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I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.
I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.
People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.
But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.
The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.
The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.
Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.
If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).
Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.
If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.
Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."
And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"
Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."
This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.
A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.
NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.
If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.
Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.
As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.
Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.
UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.
But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!
Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.
Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.
The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.
Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )
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truthundressing · 2 years ago
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um this 9-5 shit is no joke huh <- guy who has only had 2 induction days so far
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sweet-as-an-angel · 9 months ago
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A Gift for Simon
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Warnings: No Thoughts – Only Fluff, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
Imagine you go up to Simon and you present him with an Altoid tin wallet. “I remember you saying your wallet broke the other day, so I thought maybe you could use this one until you got a new one :-).”
And you pass him a tiny little tin that, initially, leaves Simon both curious and confused. When he opens it, however, his breath catches in his throat, his heart stutters.
It’s perfectly furnished inside, tailored to his exact tastes based on morsels of information you’ve either discovered by accident or Simon has told you. You’ve made a little velvet pocket in the lid, the material Simon’s favourite colour, “So you can put your emergency money in there. I always put my coins in mine in case I need to get the bus home or buy some milk,” you tell him.
The idea of you doing something so domestic and, in some vein, humble, only endears you more to Simon. He should be taking you places; you shouldn’t be using your own money when you have him.
He says none of this, of course.
The other half is decorated with a quote cut out from his favourite book, stuck behind a fresh tube of chapstick and an elasticated hoop for him to put his house key in.
He wonders if you know his lips are chapped, whether you’ve looked at them as often as he finds himself watching yours whenever you accost him, privilege him with your time.
Regardless of how close the two of you are, whether you’re just acquainted neighbours or the closest of lovers, all Simon wants to do is wrap his arms around you and hold you as tight as you’ll allow. He wants to keep you all to himself, keep your kindness all for him, selfish in his endeavour to hide it from everyone else.
He knows it will be his undoing — this act of generosity you have bestowed unto him. But he can’t bring himself to fault it, even down to the idea that perhaps you expect something back from him. He’ll gladly give you anything you want if only you ask.
But you didn’t. You just smiled, bade him goodbye, and left to go about your day.
Not that you’d notice, but Simon held off on getting a new wallet for some time after that. Whenever you asked him, he’d tell you it slipped his mind, that the wallet you gave him is doing a good job anyway. Why put all the time you spent on it to waste, he thinks. And one day, he hopes he can say it, tell you to your face how his heart flurries, stutters whenever his fingers brush over that tiny tin wallet, whenever he holds it, Thumbelina in his behemoth hands. He feels your fingers there, painstaking piecing together a dream into this physical form, gossamer in its beauty, perishable in its disposition. Warm, warmth like he’s never known, and care. It’s visceral, palpable, and Simon holds it in his hand and never lets go. Not so long as he has breath in his body.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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alasy · 2 years ago
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You'll never read this but thank you Guilherme for being so kind and helping me out, you saved the day
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lok-shakti · 2 years ago
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आगरा-लखनऊ एक्सप्रेसवे पर खाई में गिरी बस, 6 लोगों की मौके पर मौत, 21 घायल
आगरा-लखनऊ एक्सप्रेसवे पर खाई में गिरी बस, 6 लोगों की मौके पर मौत, 21 घायल
फिरोजाबादः उत्तर प्रदेश के फिरोजाबाद जिले के नगला खंगर क्षेत्र में बुधवार सुबह एक निजी बस के ट्रक से टकराकर खाई में जा गिरने से 6 यात्रियों की मौके पर ही मौत हो गई। हादसे में 21 अन्य घायल हो गए हैं। आगरा-लखनऊ एक्सप्रेस वे पर दुर्घटनाग्रस्त हुई इस बस में 45 यात्री सवार थे। पुलिस अधीक्षक ग्रामीण रणविजय सिंह ने बताया कि पंजाब के लुधियाना से रायबरेली जा रही निजी बस जब नगला खंगर थाना क्षेत्र में…
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egoistars · 2 months ago
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HIT BRAKE! sae itoshi
(Sae needs to practice his goals and you… driving)
~3.8k words, humor, fluff, angst if you grab a magnifying glass, use of soccer instead of football (i have too much pride to do that), theyre so polar opposite they unfortunately come full circle and match each others freak
Sae Itoshi returned to Japan with several new things under his belt:
The ability to speak spanish (although his grammar structure can use some help from time to time)
An insane growth spurt
Probably shell shock syndrome
And the scariest new update to a chronic Resting Bitch Face that you had the displeasure of seeing thrown your way when you accidentally ran over his ball driving home. Maybe this is why most Japanese people rely on public transport instead of using their licenses
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TWO was the number of times you had failed your driver’s test. Yes, you could always use the bus or ask your friends for a ride, but college doesn’t start for another few weeks and you’re determined by pure stubbornness to be driver certified before starting school. You think you’re doing pretty good so far: no accidents, no being pulled over, no getting cursed, and no one loudly complaining about your skills (no one has trusted you to drive them). The only thing you had left to master was parallel parking. 
It was a legacy in your family to be horrible at city parking.
One of your earliest memories was in the backseat of a rental car in a foreign country while your mother tried to park on the side of the street, only to get honked at by cars and drive against the flow of vehicles in a one-way zone. 
A bag of groceries lie in the trunk of your car as you drive to your family’s home. Humming along to the song softly playing through the radio, you slow down as you near the residential area, confident that this drive will end without a single thing gone wrong. Without speaking, you jinx your thoughts as you jolt when your car goes over a bump and a loud wheeze follows it. Turning your head to the side, your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide upon seeing the pissed off glare of Sae Itoshi, the infamous Japanese soccer player who just returned from Spain with a sexy tan.
With a shaky hand, you roll down your window and immediately start tumbling over your rushed apologies. You don’t even understand what you’re saying but you hope that Itoshi somehow understands. When he doesn’t react, which is what you expected but it hurts nonetheless, you immediately shut up and tumble out of your car before getting on your knees and seeing what you ran over. 
Your hand reaches and pulls out a deflated soccer ball, the entire thing flat with a large hole on the side from when it got run over by your car. You almost feel inclined to inflate it with the tears that are about to spill out of your eyes but the only realistic and socially acceptable choice was to give it to Itoshi and once again, apologize but with words that he and the average person can understand. 
Itoshi mumbles a “it’s okay” before taking the ball (can you even call it that?) a once-over. “I have more at home, I’ll just throw it out.”
“Holy shit I’m so sorry about that I can buy you a new one just please don’t sue me I can’t afford a good lawyer, I’m in student loan debt.”
“...why would I sue you?” he asks, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion. It’s not much different from his normal expression, just a slight crease of his brows but it makes all the difference.
“I didn’t mean to assume that you’re gonna sue me, please don’t sue me for assuming!” You think that you should begin to pack your bags and take out a loan to move to another country. It would be easier to be a criminal than to deal with a conversation with a guy who multiplies your humiliation. “I just thought that you might get your super prestigious and rich and wealthy and prosperous and exquisitely-copious-in-currency soccer team on my ass ‘cause I ran over one of their balls,” you nervously rambled. Your face heats up at every word and one Itoshi divides into two Itoshis and two Itoshis split into four.
“Are you schizophrenic? I thought you were normal back in middle school,” sixty-eight Itoshis say in unison.
Your body freezes, the now one hundred twenty-eight Itoshis all morphing back into one. “Wait, we went to middle school together?”
“Uh, yeah,” he blinks, this time looking even more awkward than you. “We were in the same class for two years straight and I sat next to you the semester before I left. I think I would remember the kid who slept through each period but still got all the answers right when called on.”
“Oh!” You perk up at the recollection of a scrawny red-haired boy from five years ago, one who would try to not-so-discreetly look at your worksheet answers and peek at your notes during class. “You’re the boy who would always copy off my work. I do remember you!”
“Is that all you remember about me?” If Itoshi were any other person, you’d say he looked uncomfortable but all he did was tilt his head a little more to the left and shift on his feet. 
“I mean, the only reason why you remember me is ‘cause I saved your academics without even knowing. Don’t think I didn’t hear our teacher whispering ‘good job’ to you while returning our tests and how you suddenly moved up in our class rankings.”
“Well you didn’t bother to hide anything when you were snoozing away so whose fault really is it?”
“You were gonna leave for Spain, anyway!” you point out, remembering being pissed off when hearing the reason why your seatmate left was because he was some kind of sport prodigy, basically having his entire future as a star secured at the age of thirteen.
“My parents would’ve killed me and held me by my feet if I flunked.” Itoshi grimaced, kissing his teeth and brushing his hair back as it had fallen over his eyes. His cheeks had returned to its usual color, removing the red flush of running and exhaustion.
“Huh, I guess I should be credited for your success. Spain should thank me.”
“Are we forgetting that I’m the one who plays the sport?” Sae’s voice came out harsher than he intended and cut through the playful atmosphere by the first syllable. His demeanor appeared unchanged but he felt himself tense. 
Conversation had never been strong for Sae, only ever talking when he needed to and the most of his words going to his teammates on the field or his little brother. His success was a sensitive subject whether he liked to admit it or not. Spain served as an eye-opener to the teenage boy, being left in a country where no one looked like you and no one spoke your language. The only thing he could rely on was a translator he barely trusted and the expressions of the people around him. 
When you don’t respond, Sae observes your face, noticing how you began to fidget with your fingers just as you had when you first stepped out of the car. You weren’t his previous coaches; you were just a former classmate who he happened to run into, or rather, you drove into. It was too late to laugh and he felt slightly guilty at freaking out someone that wasn’t his brother, an opponent, or a bothersome news anchor. 
“If you want to repay me for the ball, meet me at the sports store nearby.”
“Sorry, but I don’t really know where you’re talking about,” you sheepishly reply, wanting to sink more into the ground with every word. You decide that talking to athletes is more tiring than playing an actual sport.
“Give me your number, I’ll send you the address.”
You hand him your phone, hoping he doesn’t comment on the horrendously cracked screen protector that you had been telling yourself to replace for months. At the same time, you also want him to notice the small possibility of him offering to buy you a new one, taking advantage of rich people or whatever. “I can pick you up if you don’t mind.”
“Should I trust you to drive me?” he asks, carefully looking between you and your car with his turquoise eyes as if analyzing his opponents on a field, only, this was a residential street and the only other player was a balding middle aged man walking his dog. 
“I mean, you’ll be my first passenger so you can find out for everyone else.”
“If I get into an accident I’ll sue you for real.”
“I’ll try not to, I don’t have a job anymore and I’m going to college soon so even if I do please be merciful I swear I have good intentions.”
“Pick me up tomorrow at 11 and I’ll give you a review,” he decides, handing over his phone with the contact ‘Sae Itoshi’ at the top of your phone and the name of a sports store sent to your conversation. You ponder for a moment about asking for a contact picture but you’d like to stay alive for at least one more day so you bid him farewell and sit back in the driver’s seat, hoping he doesn’t hate your taste in music when you turn the radio back on.
The Itoshi residence is rather normal, differing from your expectation of a lavish mansion with fountains and fences of gold, given that Sae was a famous athlete and his younger brother Rin was known throughout the prefecture for being a mini Sae. The previous night when you had just finished brushing your teeth, your phone screen illuminated with the presence of a new notification: a text from the older Itoshi.
>make sure you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow
>i’ll need to try each ball out
>you did this to yourself
>shitty driver
A jolt of pain had struck your pride, crumbling your ego at the realization that he was, unfortunately, right about needing to sacrifice your entire afternoon to babysit a (grown) stranger whom you haven’t talked to in years; those conversations were brief, lacking any substance to consider them actual conversations. For a moment, the thought of bailing on him had crossed your mind, the idea of leaving him stranded at his residence while you enjoyed a night in, marinating before a tumultuous college career seemed insatiably tempting. 
Disaster struck when you Googled Sae Itoshi’s net worth, his bank account leading you right to his front doorstep.
“Don’t get into any car accidents,” Sae told you as he dipped his head down to step into the passenger’s side of your car. You were suddenly struck with a moment of insecurity; a wealthy athlete who could probably buy your family and your ancestor’s mummified corpses is sitting in your car and is probably rich enough to get away with murdering you for having half a particle of dust fall onto his lap.
You realized you zoned out when Sae cleared his throat, blinking a few times at you with an unamused expression and eyebrows furrowed in judgment. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, man. Just trying to remember the name of the place you mentioned. It’s a technique I use where if I think really hard in the same place I was when I thought of that thought, that thought I had thought of can reappear in my thoughtless mind.” You aren’t sure if you understand what you’re saying but you think you can get away with spouting bullshit if you use enough hand movements like a person on TedTalk.
“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Sae doesn’t seem to believe you but you’re an innovator—you simplify the problem down to something the average person (underling) can understand. 
“Can you give me the address again..?”
“You’re a freak.”
Sae picks up your phone, which was opened to the navigator app, and quickly typed in the name of the sporting good’s shop he had mentioned the day before. It was a small place, smaller than you would expect a star athlete to go to for equipment but you suppose it makes sense at the same time: less people, less paparazzi, less crazed fans, and a selection of items picked specifically for trained athletes. 
“So, uh, are you gonna make me pay for the ball too ‘cause I’m at least, like, five yen in student loan debt,” you sheepishly ask, hoping Sae can appreciate your humility in being a college student, taking a step forward in life by pursuing a higher education. 
“How cheap are you?” Sae scoffs, letting out a sound that started off as half of a chuckle but ended as a constipated grunt, making him sound like a diseased lab-grown goat that was raised by war-stricken alien society. You think Sae should become an experimental musical artist if soccer doesn’t work out, sorta like a fucked up version of Björk who’s slightly less musically talented and a total cunt instead. 
“I’m not cheap! I’m just curious. I brought my credit card just in case. I’m a responsible adult; this is all for budgeting and logging my payments or whatever else people do to save money.”
“You’re lucky you’re funny,” Sae comments as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. For you though, you almost stepped on the breaks and begged him to repeat what he said. It would have been just another condescending compliment from anyone else but Sae Itoshi is notorious for not humoring anyone in the media and you quickly realized, even those in real life. Before you could doubt your memory, Sae opens his mouth again. “You lucked out on pretty privilege. All the bullshit you say would not slide if it came from any other person. I’m convinced the only social experience you have is talking to a mud wall.”
Any negative statement he had made went through one ear and directly out the other, keeping only the compliments for your brain to process. Without noticing, a giddy smile appeared on your face and to Sae, it was wildly masochistic the way you tolerated his foul personality and even relishing in his attention—no matter good or bad. He could almost pity you, deducing your attitude as a lack of self respect, but you somehow manage to surprise him every time.
“Nah, I think I had a lot of friends. I don’t know if we were actually friends but I knew their names so it’s probably good enough. Speaking of, there was this guy named Kota who I knew when I was seven and he seemed pretty cool until I caught him picking at his feet in the middle of class. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing and if he’s still collecting foot gunk. But yeah, I think you’re just self projecting with the whole ‘no people, only soccer’ thing and moving to Spain with zero spanish skills. Damn, wait, that’s kinda sad. Shit, now I feel bad,” you take a look at Sae, searching for any sort of discomfort or offense but he simply shrugged. 
“It’s whatever, they all bothered me anyways. I was there to play soccer, not make lifelong friends. It’s not like I’m gonna stay in Spain forever. I’m back in Japan to renew my passport ‘cause I know I’m gonna come back eventually.”
“You’ve already made a name for yourself and you’re making insane money that can last more than a lifetime for the average person once your contract is over. It’s not gonna be long before you get onto the Olympic team for Japan. When you do make it on, you better thank me for making sure you kept on playing by bringing you to buy a replacement for a ball I ran over.”
You drove into a parking lot with two other cars directly in front of the sports shop. The building was in the middle of a small plaza, adjacent to an udon shop and a bar. It was undoubtedly an odd place for a sports shop to be and that might have been what caught Sae’s eye in the first place. In the window display, a tennis racket and a pair of soccer cleats are put on display and on the glass door, countless advertisements for events and brands are taped on, each barely correlating to the others.
Right in the corner of the shop is the checkout where an elderly man sits, scribbling something in a beaten journal. There is a stack of newspapers behind him, every issue marked with highlighted annotations and then neatly folded as if it were untouched. Sae greeted the man and turned to find someone else, this time, being a younger man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. He gave Sae a warm smile and shook his hand, not as a business partner, but as an acquaintance. 
It’s here that you realize you’ll never be able to see the world the way Sae does. In your car he was just another boy in your neighborhood that you decided to get to know. But to others, he was Sae Itoshi, a prodigy who could conquer the world with just himself and a pair of cleats. Although his eyes are dimmed and his apathy anything but silent, his shine was lost to know one and when he boards a plane back to Spain while you settle into college, you think you’d be content calling him a shooting star.
Sae notices that you stopped following him and turns around in confusion, tilting his head to motion you to follow him. It takes a breath before you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket and tentatively follow him. It wasn’t until you walked into the store that you truly realized how out of place you felt and if it were just you and Sae, you might’ve thought to ask him what everything did. He’d call you a dense fuck and tell you that he plays soccer, that he doesn’t deal with anything else. You had even the smallest bit of shame so you kept your mouth shut and continued to trail after him, stealing glances at the stacked shelves until the employee came to a halt.
Before you was a wall, lined with four shelves of nothing but soccer balls, each decorated with the signatures of different brands and their series’.
“The guy said I can try them out in the back.” Sae tapped your shoulder and grabbed onto the fabric of your jacket, dragging you with him like a pet cat. “They have a lot of empty space there. You can help me carry everything I want to try.”
Agreeing turned out to be a mistake. In your arms you struggled to carry six different balls, with Sae dribbling one between his feet as the owner of the stop unlocked the door to the back where Sae would be testing things out. You felt like an overworked butler from some bad comic and in your head, you imagined yourself as a fainting princess—a damsel in distress being overworked by the evil kingdom in which she is supposed to be respected.
“Stop being dramatic,” Sae sighed, noticing your dejected pout and lost eyes. He could almost pity you if you didn’t look comically pathetic in the moment, almost adorable if he wanted to be slightly sentimental. “You can put them all down now. Just sit here and wait. Take a nap or something, you’ll be fine.”
The lack of standards you have would be an issue to address at a later date because the barely comforting words of the ever eloquent motivational speaker Sae Itoshi had you immediately perking up and cheering for him.
“Go! Go! You got this! Get that goal, ugly!”
“Who are you calling ugly? I could knock you out with this ball, you know. If you want to be supportive, don't be a freak.”
“Are you really gonna disrespect the only fan you have at the moment? What if I tweet about this and get you canceled or some shit?”
“Do you really think I care about that?”
“...no…”
“...”
“...”
“Whatever. Do what you want.”
“Kick that ball, little boy! You’re a prodigy! Number one soccer player in the world! Bend that net over!”
By the time Sae had finished shooting several goals and alternating dribbling between them at least five times, the sun had set and your throat was sore from bullshit cheering, half of which were incoherent sounds of moral support. Sae grabbed an unopened box of the ball he had chosen and denied a pump when offered one. When he placed the cardboard packaging onto the checkout table, your wallet was in your hand and ready to check out and pay off your debt to the Itoshi. 
However, you were met with a receipt in your hand instead and a farewell from the owner, bidding you and Sae a happy rest of your day. You quickly turned your head toward Sae, mouth agape as your brain twitched, trying to process if he was fucking with you or not.
“Do you want me to pay you online or write a check or what? Wait, why did you pay? I thought I owed you it? My complaining earlier was all joking. I literally popped your old ball. The least I can do is pay for a new one!” You rant, quickly taking your phone out of your bag to open up your banking app but Sae was quicker to take your hand in his and bring it down to where it was before.
“And I was fucking with you too, dumbass. Or are you too stupid to remember back in the car how I didn’t respond to you asking if you needed to pay? Start listening, will you?”
“I think this is the meanest act of generosity I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m not being generous, I’m telling you that you owe me something else.”
“What the fuck?” You’re perplexed by the audacity of this man. You hope his athletic career flops and every brand deal that he has gotten offered drops him. “Are you gonna start charging me an insane amount of interest like a loan shark? Dude, aren’t you rich?”
“I’m not asking for money.”
“Then what is it?”
“Go on a date with me.”
“Are you being for real right now?” You’re still perplexed by the audacity of this man. You’re perplexed by how his words are chosen to form the most foul sentences with sweet meanings. You’re perplexed by how out of all who know him, and all whom he knows, he would take an interest in you. But you’re a selfish person—if Sae Itoshi is offering his beauty and his awful personality to you, then you’ll take it with all your heart. 
You move to Sae’s side, putting everything in your hands into your bag and intertwining your fingers with his, a dumb smile planted on your face. As you skip to the car and swing your hands between the two of you, Sae Itoshi’s grin is highlighted by the golden glow of the setting sun. 
He really can’t wait to come home.
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yellowjestertfs · 3 months ago
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Spare Parts
Al untucked his shirt, then tucked it in again, then quickly untucked it before landing on a French tuck—a mix of both that suited him worse than either. He had never been so nervous about going out with his friends. In the past, he was the life of the party, staying out clubbing until the witching hours, getting drunk, and ending up in some stranger's bed the next morning. That was before he made the fatal mistake of jaywalking drunk and got hit by a bus, which flung him into the path of another bus, which sent him off a bridge and into the water, where he was run over by a boat. Honestly, it would have been a pretty comical way to die—only he didn’t die. He should have died; he broke every bone in his body and turned his organs into a smoothie. The wonders of modern medicine intervened. He still didn’t quite understand exactly how, but the doctors had used stem cells, like those regenerating cells babies have, to essentially bring him back from the dead. A miracle, yes, but even miracles had their limits. The recovery process was long and hard, and even now, recently released from medical custody, he was not the same man he’d been before the accident.
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Getting hit by two buses and a boat does that to you. His face was mangled—not to the point of being monstrous, but not attractive either. His body had also suffered from the accident, practically wasting away as he recovered. While the old Al partied with abandon, this new Al was self-conscious of his appearance and absolutely terrified to cross the street. Now, he stood at the crosswalk, fidgeting with his short-sleeve button-down shirt, thinking about why he had asked an old lady to help him across. He clutched her tightly as they crossed, ready to throw her in the way if a bus came barreling toward them—luckily for both of them, none did. Despite her age and his current condition, the woman actually made a pass at him, calling him a “handsome lad” and asking if he wanted to go back to her place. It helped his confidence, if only a little, and gave him a strange tingling feeling.
Finally, after detaching himself from the woman, he reached the club. Despite the relatively early hour, the place was bumping; the bass-boosted electronic music and a flashing rainbow could be seen and heard from the outside. A quick check of his phone informed him that his friends were already inside, so he joined the short line and waited to be let in by the bouncer. As he neared the front, he realized he recognized the bouncer. Back when he frequented this place, he was friendly with the muscular man. Now, though, he doubted the man would recognize him, and he honestly hoped to keep it that way. Back then, he was sort of a legend, a position he doubted he could live up to now. As the bouncer—Rod, he thought—waved him forward, Al couldn’t help but admire the man's physique. It seemed that while Al recovered, Rod made some serious gains. His arms were particularly impressive; Al found himself feeling bad for the man’s sleeves as they tried and failed to contain his massive arms. Their sheer size was only enhanced by the web of veins that patterned the muscles. 
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“ID, please,” Rod said, indeed not recognizing Al as he had predicted. Al handed over his card, suddenly realizing the picture on the ID was pre-accident.
“Had a bit of a glow-down,” Al said awkwardly, trying to flash a smile but only managing to lift one side of his mouth—the other’s nerve endings were damaged beyond repair. Rod grunted but returned Al’s ID; even despite the discrepancies in the photo, there was little doubt that Al was of age. As Rod handed back his ID, their hands touched just slightly, and for a second, Al felt a slight tingling in his upper arms. Then it was gone as quickly as it came. 
“Have fun, man,” Rod said, “and nice guns.” Al laughed at that, thinking the man was making fun of his twig arms.
He lifted his arm, expecting the usual sight of his scrawny limb. But when his gaze landed on it, his breath caught. His bicep had swollen under the skin, somehow in the span of a heartbeat his twig arms had become tree trunks. Al’s fingers traced the now firm, rounded muscle, a mix of fear and fascination flooding his mind. The sheer size and hardness of his new bicep felt both alien and irresistibly satisfying, a forbidden thrill coursing through his veins at his arms meaty massive things they now were. They looked like almost exact copies of Rod’s, only instead of the man's olive complexion, the biceps had the pale look of someone who had spent the last two years in a hospital bed.
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Al felt light-headed. How was this possible? Was he having some sort of mental breakdown, a delusion? He needed to find his friends. No, he needed to find a drink. The bar was right where he remembered—just to the left of the entrance. Unlike Rod, the bouncer, he didn’t recognize the bartender—a short, slightly pudgy man who looked to be in his mid-40s, with a strong square cleft chin that didn’t particularly match the rest of his average features. Al walked up to him, trying to hide his now-massive arms to little avail. He found he couldn’t stop flexing and feeling them, equal parts concerned and turned on by the mysterious new muscles.
“I'll take a vodka soda,” Al tried to say casually, although the words came out more as a question than a request. Luckily, the night was still young enough that he managed to get the man's attention, although the fact that he wasn’t a pretty girl kept him from making small talk. As he worked, Al saw the bartender occasionally glance up at his biceps, which he had crossed in an attempt to hide them. They looked a little ridiculous with the rest of his scrawny body. Wordlessly, the bartender placed a garnish on the drink before handing it to Al. Just as with Rod, their hands innocently touched, and again Al felt a strange tingle, this time centering on his chin. Lifting the glass to his lips, Al quickly lowered it, uneasy at how strange the sensation felt. Years of drinking had made him familiar with the feel of a glass against his lips, but something felt off now. His bottom lip somehow felt more supported, stiffer. A quick exploration with his finger revealed that his chin was causing the offense. But that couldn’t be—his chin had been round and soft even before the accident. Whatever this new chin that had somehow attached itself to his face was, it felt like a block of stone, the bone protruding in a harsh, strong way completely foreign to his face. The deep cleft was also new, creating a valley in the mountain that was his chin. Pulling out his phone, he saw what his fingers had felt: his face now somehow sported a strong, masculine chin almost identical to that of the bartender.
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Al wasn’t the brightest, but even he began to put the pieces together. Somehow, he was absorbing the best qualities of every person he touched. His mind raced, trying to figure out what could be causing this. The stem cells he received might be the explanation, but why now? Al needed to get out; he needed to see a doctor. Panicked, he looked for the exit only to find a crowd had congregated between the bar and the nearest door. There was no way he could make it to the other side without touching anyone. Could he risk it? 
His contemplation was cut short as a woman sauntered up to the bar, her stumbling gait indicating she was already a few drinks deep. That was hardly the most noticeable thing about her; put bluntly, she had massive boobs—the type that could never fit in a top without being the center of attention. As she stumbled her way toward the bar, she tripped on one of her own feet. Al’s eyes widened as he realized too late that her fall would take her directly toward him. He tried to move out of the way, but as she fell, her arms reached forward for support, landing on his own. For a brief second, he hoped he might absorb her winning smile, but judging by the tingling in his chest, he wasn’t so lucky. Horrified, he glanced down, expecting to see breasts pushing out of his shirt. Instead, he found different mounds there—equally large, yes, but the lumps on his chest weren’t boobs; they were too firm and square. No, instead Al had somehow gained massive pectoral muscles from his contact with the woman. Their growth had unceremoniously demolished the first three buttons of his shirt, which was having a bad day trying to contain his massive chest and arms. The muscles looked downright strange on his body, the rest of it still emaciated from the accident. In fact, Al struggled to support the weight of his new mass, his shrimpy legs and shoulders straining under the sudden load.
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The woman pulled away from his arms, drunkenly apologizing before reaching out to grope one of his now-massive pecs. Luckily, no tingles followed, confirming Al’s suspicion that he could only absorb from a person once. Now, Al felt torn about what to do. On one hand, he still worried about the changes and their possible repercussions, but did he want them to stop? If he went to the doctor now and they fixed him, would he be stuck in his current disproportionate form forever? This could be a blessing—a way to heal from the damage caused by the accident, to become the ultimate version of himself—or rather, of the people around him. So far, none of the changes had been bad. Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Al scanned the room for someone with a feature he wanted to absorb. The choice became easier when a cute guy walked right past him, his clothing tight on his lean, muscular body, and he looked well-groomed. Before the accident—in fact, before tonight—Al had never paid much attention to the appearance of other men. Maybe it was the fact that he now saw their features as ones he could have, or perhaps it was something else, but for whatever reason, he found himself checking out the other men in the club, including the one walking by. On instinct, he stuck his foot out, tripping the man, their bare ankles making contact for a second in the process. The man stumbled and then turned to face Al, his face red with anger, which quickly cooled as he took in Al.
“Hey, I like your hair, dude,” he said. Al had hoped that he might absorb the guy's cute, tight ass or maybe his strong Roman nose, but his hair worked too. It was silky, thick, and coiffed attractively—definitely an improvement over his current thinning hair.
“Thanks, man,” Al said, reaching up to find that he indeed had hair identical to the man he had just tripped. 
“Do you go to Clarice?” the guy asked. The question sparked a brief conversation in which Al lied through his teeth, pretending they went to the same barber rather than admitting that he thought his stem cells had magically copied the guy's hairstyle to a tee. Eventually, Al excused himself, claiming he had seen his friends. This was true; as they chatted, Al had located his friends huddled close to the DJ booth on the dance floor. Steeling himself, he made his way over to them, trying to avoid physical contact. His efforts were only somewhat successful. An accidental brush of a college-age girl’s hand lengthened his eyelashes, while a hip bump into a man with rolled-up sleeves thickened his forearms, so his arms were now somewhat proportional. Once he reached the dance floor, however, he lost total control. Falling arms and thrusting hips assaulted him from all sides. An accidental step on a foot caused his lips to buzz as if they had momentarily fallen asleep, puffing up to appear pillowy and soft. A hand brushed across his back, causing a tingle in his shoulders, widening them and only making his progress more difficult. The elbow wedged awkwardly into the crevice of his pecs by a sheepish-looking man earned him a short, coarse beard across his jaw—a jaw that had become wider and sharper thanks to the impatient shoving of a male model behind him. Al quickly lost track of exactly what features he had gained from whom. A sudden numbness in different parts of his body was the only indication that he continued to change. At one point, a gigantic man who had to be some sort of pro basketball player moved next to Al. Al indulged himself, letting his hand “accidentally” rub against the tall man's leg and feeling his whole body lengthen. The constant shifting of the dance floor meant no one noticed Al or the way his features shifted. As he neared his friends, a twink dressed only in a leather harness and thong approached him and started to grind up against him. Even more shocking was the rock-hard abs that formed from their contact and the boner that Al inexplicably developed from the experience. The twink started to unbutton the last few remaining buttons on his shirt, and he let him, not wanting to deprive the world of his body.
At last, Al reached his friends, finally finding a pocket of relative emptiness near the loudspeakers. 
Al reached out to tap one of his friends on the arm before thinking better of it and just stood there awkwardly, waiting for them to notice him. Eventually, the song ended, and his three friends turned to face him. Only with a pang of shock did Al realize they didn’t recognize him. How could they? He had become a sort of Frankenstein’s monster of different features from the various patrons of the club. Where they expected their scrawny, balding friend fresh out of an extensive hospital stay, instead before them stood a 6’5” bodybuilder with a face, a hodgepodge of features from various people, somehow working together to give him a handsome and exotic look.
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“Hey, have you seen our friend? Short, skinny, looks like he might have been hit by a bus or two,” his friend Jordan asked. It was a simple question, but for maybe the first time in two years, Al noticed not a trace of pity in his friend's voice. No, rather it was admiration. Al’s previous intentions of coming clean to his friends and seeking help melted away as he realized the opportunity he had. He could finally escape the shadow of those busses; he could have a new start.
“Nope, haven’t seen anyone like that,” he said in a voice much richer and deeper thanks to the vocal cords of some unknown stranger. 
“I’m Jordan, by the way,” his friend said, raising his voice to be heard over the music. 
“Al.” Shit. So much for a fresh start. Jordan glanced at his other two friends but didn’t say anything. Instead, one of his other friends, Sergio, grabbed Al’s hand and pulled him into their dance circle. The contact made his whole body tingle and, glancing down, he saw that his skin had darkened to the same ruddy tan as his friend's. Luckily, the flashing lights and the general darkness of the club made Al fairly sure no one noticed the transformation.
Throughout the night, he became reacquainted with his own friends and found innocent ways of making contact with each of them. From his friend Marge, he gained her show-stopping ass, the muscular butt complementing the thick thighs he had gained sometime during his mad rush. Contact with Linsey copied her perfect Barbie blonde hair. The stylish haircut and scruff he had grown sometime during the night bleached itself instantly while all his body hair, limited as it was by various tingles, turned the same gold color. His friend Jordan took a special interest in the new Al, and Al found himself reciprocating the attention, for the first time noticing just how hot his friend was. When at long last they touched, Al grabbed the man and brought him into a passionate kiss. He swore he felt tingles but couldn’t notice any change on his body. After long hours of sweaty dancing, a round of shots, and many more kisses between the two former friends, the group headed over to Jordan's apartment. Al nearly blew his cover by heading straight to his friend's door, but the excuse of “lucky guess” seemed to satisfy his non-sober companions. After a few more hours of chatting and more alcohol, everyone left but Al and Jordan.
Jordan used the classic “let me show you something in the bedroom” line, which led to more kissing and Jordan feeling up Al’s new muscular body. Eventually, as both men removed their pants, Al discovered what he had picked up from his friend. Long and thick, Al’s penis was identical to that of his lover, which Jordan seemed delighted by, claiming he had never been with someone with a tool as big as his. It took a moment for Al to get over the surprise of his friend packing so much meat and the fact that he now did as well, but once he accepted it, he used his new member to the fullest. After hours of fucking, the two fell asleep, not waking up until the afternoon the next day. Al politely said his goodbyes and awkwardly avoided giving Jordan his number, not wanting to explain why it was the same number as Jordan's sickly friend. 
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Exiting the apartment, he noticed the same elderly woman from last night and to his chagrin, she once again hit on him, asking to hold his bicep while they crossed the street. When he touched her, he felt no tingles, which he thought strange until he remembered she was the first person to induce that sensation upon him last night. Could it be that he had somehow absorbed her sex drive or sexuality? Was that why he had a sudden appreciation for men? The thought amused him as he made his way to his car. But before he could dwell on it too much, his attention was abruptly pulled back to the present.
Lost in thought, he didn’t see the bus careening down the street, heading right for him. The blare of the horn hit him a second too late, and everything went black.
The next thing Al knew, he was waking up in a hospital—a horrifying déjà vu of two years ago. A young doctor stood over him, clipboard clutched in two massive, masculine hands. His eyes fluttered as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, the cold sterility of the hospital room bringing back memories of his long, painful recovery. Blearily, Al glanced down at himself. His perfect, hunky form was now a mess—bones broken, muscles flattened. All except his hands, which looked larger and callused, suspiciously identical to the doctor standing above him. It seemed that Al’s luck with public transportation hadn’t changed, but now he knew how to build himself back up. A minor setback, sure, but nothing a few spare parts wouldn’t fix.
Wrote this a while ago but thought i would post it here with images and some small edits. Not my best but think its still a fun story.
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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 3 months ago
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Spider and Bats Snippets 2
[0.] [1.]
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I headcanon Spider!(Y/N) meets Clark/Superman on accident before Batman does.
Just, imagine. Your heading to a part time job, super excited about it! Get on the bus, and wait... Then fall asleep..
The bus driver kicks you out at the Mertropolis bus station. Not good! You don't have enough for a ticket back to Gotham so you managed to get a part-time job at The Daily Planet, as the coffee runner! Simple enough?
Bumping into a meek Clark Kent, who is shyly thanking you for his cup of joe'. Then you, eagerly wanting a new friend in a strange enviorment, (again), asking about what he's writing.
"Wow Kent, didn't expect you to snag the new girl."
Lois teased light-heartedly. "Oh, ha-ha it's nothing like that. They're a good friend."
He shrugs it off as Lois shakes her head. "Sheesh, a lot of fella's make a LOT of trouble with that word. Good luck Smallsville."
Blinking in confusion, you were suprised she didn't notice you as you walk up beside him. "Huh... Wait, you think were good friends!?" You beam in awe at Clark, happily spinning around his desk chair. "Clark! You should of said something sooner!"
You let go, now thoughtful. "Hmmm, we should do friendship bracelets then.. I mean, I did make one with another friend of mine.. OH! I got an' idea-" "-Guh.. I-I think I.. Need to rain check.."
"Hm? What's wrong? You look dizy... Vomit-y."
I know there's different versions of how Batman met Superman. Personally, I perfer The Animated Series Ver!
I would like to think, Robin and Nightwing asked her to get Superman's autograph as a casual comment if Spider(Y/N) went to Mertropolis.
So during her "stay" at the other city, she'd often patrol and help a bit when she could.
Would totally meet Supes' on acident.
"Wow! Hello! Why is your city so much cleaner? I like your cape! Reminds me of Miguel-!" You try to descalate the situation.
You happily greet him, babbling as your buddy glared at you. You shrug at Batman's gaze, giving him a slight push. Herding him close to your side incase of any... Bad, course of action, between you and the supposed "Man of Steel".
Superman paused at the greeting, after thrown into a wall. He expected more hostily from you as well, since he read most crime-fighters were, due to the Gotham Gazette. Yet you seemed more occupied with keeping the Batman away from HIM.
Using his x-ray vision, he peaked underneath your masks.
"Bruce Wayne..." He mumbled under his breath as Batman shoved you to the side. Glaring at the super-powered male, "You peeked.."
"Hm? He did what?" You weren't paying attention, more focused on the destruction and damage. Frowning worriedly, knowung your "unexpected vaction" would meet it's end.
Superman The Animated Series: Season 1 Ep 16 - World's Finest Part 1
I can see Spider!(Y/N) being pen-pals with lot's of heros and vigilantes. Possibly even anti-heros and villians?
Carefully web-shooting the civillians away, you keep squint as you watch them dance in sync. Slightly envious, before shooting a glance at Batman.
He collapsed as groups of Music Meisters pawns held him down. Grunting as he tried to move away. You used your web to toss them away quickly. Huffing as you glanced down at your comrade.
Even with the ear-plugs, you couldn't help it!
As if spotlight shone on your cue, you sang encouragingly. Smiling underneath your mask, you hold out a hand to him. He grasps it as you slowly pull him up.
♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬ ゚."And you can rise above...!" ♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬ ゚.
The Brave and the Bold Season 1 Episode 25 Mayhem of the Music Meister!
We all know that THEE Batman has a certain type.
But this is for fun, so, (。ゝ(ェ)・)-☆
Overall, I stated perviously, it's more a comedic pairing that has many set-ups to be serious.
Watching Catwoman flee once more, you walk to Bat's side. Standing beside him politely, before.. Slowly... Reaching out your hand to his. Holding it firmly with no caution.
The vigilante glares at the action, yet you don't let up as he tries to shake your hand away.
You giggle as you watch your arm swing with his, your laughter becoming louder as he finally gave in.
Batfam relationship depends on if Spider!(Y/N) came before or after the Batfam was formed.
Personally, I perfer it before. I feel like it would show growth in Bat's and Spiders dynamic.
I sorta wanna explore it, but if ya'll got ideas Im open to it.
-
{Yay! Another self-indulg work! Lol. I was inspired once again, I really just love that more people are intrested in the idea than just myself! Horray! Comments, art, reblogs are always wanted! This is purely for fun! If anyone gets the easter egg I put, let me know!}
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minkiverse · 6 months ago
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PARK SEONGHWA FIC RECS
Poly!Ateez Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Kim Hongjoong - Jeong Yunho - Kang Yeosang - Choi San - Song Mingi - Jung Wooyoung - Choi Jongho
HWA TIME!! A man who is so earth shatteringly gorgeous of course gets written incredibly by atiny 😩 like this man is just art!! As always, I hope you enjoy and support these authors!!
Dividers by @iluvpooks
DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please read all warnings before reading!!!
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Key:
✨ - My Favs
🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)
⛈️ - Angst
💗 - Fluff
🍑 - Humor
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SERIES
New Horizons - @fivestar-outlaw 🔥⛈️��� Idol AU
this is just the cutest series!! like meeting him through animal crossing is the most adorable meet cute i want to cry 😭😭 we all deserve a lil bit of delusion as a treat asfgdssfgdf
The Way to His Heart - @edenesth ⛈️💗Joseon Period ✧ Arranged Marriage AU
im a big BIG fan of historical au's and i just loved reading hwa falling for the mc and then doing everything he can to destroy the people that hurt her 😩😩 that kind of devotion is just soooooooo attractive😍😍 it kinda reminds me of the anime My Happy Marriage (which i did not finish OTL) but if you enjoyed that i think you will love this~~
Wallflower pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥⛈️💗 Office AU
seonghwa is mc's nerdy coworker but boy can he fuck 😩😩😩 the smut in this is 🤌🤌 but honestly this fic is so much more than that and how the mc changes and grows as a person because of hwa's influence is so enjoyable to read i just love them 🥹🥹
Sans - @songmingisthighs ⛈️💗🍑 SMAU ✧ Childhood Friends AU
this author really knows how to break my heart 😭😭😭 definitely be aware of trigger warnings for some chapters!!! but this fic was also so wholesome?? like i just love the mc and how they grow from the events of the story 🥹🥹 SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO SAN AND WOO!!!!
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ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES/ETC
sycophant - @ncteez ✨🔥 Business AU
there will always be boss x employee fics BUT this take on it 🤌🤌🤌 hwa is just so attractively straight forward and him teaching the mc on how to dom him is truly just so fucking hot i could scream 😩😩
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU
The Thing About Pretty Boys - @wonusite ✨🔥 Friends to Lovers AU
never say seonghwa can't fuck.... or maybe do bcs this man goes fucking feral 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i had like a full body physical reaction to how hwa is written in this fic 😩😩 like this is so filthy in the hottest way possible
Dune - @hongism 🔥 Outlaw AU ✧ Biker AU
Untitled - @orgverse 🔥 Sci-fi AU
Warning Signs EP. 1: The Showman - @mphountitled 🔥Rebellion AU
Everyday at the Bus Stop - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥💗
persistent desire - @bro-atz 🔥 College AU
Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥
Red Dress - @wooyoungiewritings ✨🔥⛈️💗 Enemies to Lovers AU
i love a holiday/winter themed fic ok sue me 🫵🫵 its just COZY and this hwa drives me up the wall 😩😩 he's such a charming lil shit and the banter is soooooo good 🫠🫠 i looooooooove this couple!!!!!!!
Scattered bunny!seonghwa thoughts - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU
Morning sex with Seonghwa - @k-hotchoisan 🔥
Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥
realistic sex with seonghwa - @byuntrash101 🔥
VIP Access - @hwashotcheeto 🔥 Idol AU
multiple??? - @lomlhwa 🔥 Hybrid AU
I Can See You - @daemour 🔥⛈️💗 Single Father!Hwa
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU
heavy and sticky - @k-hotchoisan 🔥
Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥
belong to me - @ateezscupid 🔥⛈️ Idol AU
Untiled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Dragon!Teez ✧ Sugar Mommy AU
Untitled - @bombuni 💗
Honest (But Happy) Accident - @ad0rechuu 💗College AU
amazing grace - @yoongiseesawmp3 🔥⛈️💗 Church Boy!Hwa
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Bad Boy!Hwa
paradigm - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✨🔥 Bartender AU
switch!hwa nuff said 🤤🤤🤤 no but how this author does banter is just so good like idk even know how explain it because it feels so natural and charming and the smut is so fucking good like im in love with hwa and the mc ?????
The Heart's Filthy Lesson - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥⛈️ Toxic BFF!Hwa
Untitled - @hee0soo 🔥
Damnation of a Saint - @byuntrash101 🔥 7 Deadly Sins AU
My Little Empress - @holybibly 🔥 Historical AU ✧ Arranged Marriage AU
the lamb and the wolf - @seonghwaddict 🔥💗 Hades!Hwa
Make Me Water - @bangtanintotheroom 🔥 Friends to Lovers AU
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Cyberpunk AU
mirror mirror on the wall, who's the filthiest of them all - @almightyddeonghwa 🔥 Idol AU
boyfriend texts - @beenbaanbuun 🍑
486 notes · View notes
podiumackles · 1 year ago
Text
Paper Rings | L. Norris
In which they allow themselves to become undone in each other's touch, and enter a new phase of their relationship.
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word count: 5,9k | warnings for mature content (18+); protected sex, fingering, a small nod to a breeding kink, inexperienced reader and lando (but they try their best), possible offensive language, other than that just lots of fluff | prompt(s) used: s35 and s31
Accidents. You hated them. But while normally associated with unpleasant events, for once in your life it had been good. It wasn't intentional that you met Lando Norris and became friends, but eventually, he had unexpectedly asked you out.
You had encountered the young Brit at a party of a mutual friend. You despised parties, and after you had arrived and greeted the birthday girl, you became to realise why; everyone was high off their asses.
It had barely been twenty minutes into the party, and you had already found yourself alone at the bar with a glass of sugar-free Coca-Cola. You did not like drinking alcoholic liquids, and you had thought you were the solitary person in this building to be feeling like this until you saw a young man sit about three metres away from you - most likely drinking the same exact drink as you did.
“I’m Lando,” he had said as he caught your eye, walked up to you and extended his hand for you to shake. “I take it you are not a frequent drinker either?”
Your rosy cheeks flushed while you shook your head, quietly confirming his thoughts. He looked stunning; bright eyes taking all of your attention from the loose blouse and neat trousers. And then to come back to the curls atop his head; you felt like you couldn’t breathe.
After talking with Lando for the rest of the memorable night, you ultimately felt your social battery run out and decided it was time for you to go, much to your dismay.
With his beaming smile and plumb lips shaping around his teeth, he gently assured you that it was no big deal, and if you had wanted to, you could meet up another time. There wasn’t a single doubt inside your mind when you have him your number, and he promised you he would send you a message after offering you a ride home, which you politely declined.
You had gone home that night, head in the clouds, and your fingers itching to look the youngster up on the internet. He had let it slip that he was a driver, though you weren’t certain for what. Was he a taxi driver? Bus driver, perhaps?
Whatever it was, you were too curious not to look it up. He had to have a social media page somewhere, and with a name like that it shouldn’t have been hard to find. Therefore you eagerly searched for his name; Lando. You hadn’t quite gotten his last name yet, so after searching past a certain star wars character, you finally saw his familiar face pop up on the glowing screen. You frowned thoughtfully. He was a Formula 1 driver. You weren’t so sure how he had managed to avoid that topic altogether, but it caused you to appreciate him even more.
It was about two to three months and a few cat and mouse games after that, around Valentine's Day, that he had asked you out. In the few months of being friends, you weren’t entirely sure what you had done to deserve such a kind human being in your life, but you accepted his invitation, nonetheless.
Therefore there you were; happily together for five more months - except this time as a couple. And it couldn’t have been better.
The both of you decided to take it slowly; neither of you had a lot of experience, and you certainly didn’t want to rush things that didn’t need to be rushed.
He had asked you to accompany him at races a couple of times, but you kindly declined each time. You felt like it was invading his personal space, like barging into an office when someone's at work. He could dismiss your thoughts as much as he liked, but it wouldn’t convince you. ‘Some day,’ you had promised.
Denying his kind invitation to his home race felt wrong, but you just weren’t ready. And he accepted that. So, you had made a comfortable spot on your sofa, windows open, and an iced tea in your hands while you watched the race weekend on your television.
You practically screamed when your boyfriend put his orange and chrome car on the first row. The season had been incredibly harsh for both McLaren drivers, but it ultimately seemed they were getting close to where they formerly stood.
And then, the race. Never in a million years would you have thought he would lead a race this year. It only was for a couple of laps, but he managed to pass the reigning world champion during the start and was ahead of the Dutchman even before the first corner.
The race was intense, and you had long forgotten your prepared drink and snacks on the table. But when Lando crossed the line in second place, you almost felt joyful tears escape your eyes. You could contain yourselves, wanting to seem strong for nobody in particular.
In the middle of the podium ceremony, your mum sent you a quick text, ‘he bloody did it again’, and you could no longer contain your tears. You took photos of your television screen, acting as if you did join him during this race. And oh, how you wish you had.
He called you as soon as he was finished with the media duties, like he always does, and talked you through his racing thoughts of the past three hours. And you could do nothing but listen intensely.
He went straight home to you after he was no longer required at the track, your apartment being a small four-hour drive from Silverstone. You had told him he could take some well-deserved rest first, and visit you the day after, but he just desperately wanted to see you.
After a few hours of eager anticipation, you heard the door open, concluding your boyfriend had let himself in with the key you had given him just the week before.
You shot up to meet him in the middle of the living room, where his suitcase and shoes had already been long left at the door. Your socks-covered feet tried their best not to slip from underneath you, and you embraced Lando in an affectionate hug, his arms finding their way around your waist immediately, resting his hands on your lower back.
You took in his scent, cologne mixed with shampoo from his shower after the race. He wore a hoodie from his newest merchandise collection, and you mentally scolded him for dressing like that with the heat hanging over your country.
“I missed you so much.” You told him, and you had. You always had to miss him for a couple of weeks at the least with the races, but he promised he would come back to you. And he always did.
“I’m here, love,” he murmured into your neck, his warm breath causing a shiver over your back. “And so did I.”
“You did so well.” You whispered tenderly, trying your best not to sniffle right then and there. But he caught onto it.
“Hey, hey,” he pulled back from your embrace, causing your hands to slide down to his chest, his palms resting on your cheeks. “Are you crying?”
You chuckled. Of course, you chuckled. How could you not? This man made you laugh with almost every single word he said, even when he tried to be serious.
“Guess I’m just a little overwhelmed,” you looked him in the eyes, those mesmerising irises looking back at yours - concern mixed with a smile. “It’s been a tough mental day, but seeing you back on that podium again -“ you paused for a brief second, a lump forming in your throat, trying your best not to fully let your tears fall. “It was all I could have asked for this weekend.”
He smiled. Genuinely smiled. He could barely afford any other emotion around you than genuine happiness, and you reciprocated that feeling.
“I did it for you,” he smiled, thumbs caressing your cheekbones, and you suddenly felt weak in the knees. His intense gaze, perfect smile, and lips wettened from the times he occasionally ran his tongue along them.
You weren’t exactly certain what came over you, but you grabbed the collar of his sweater, pulled him down to your height and embraced his rosy lips in a loving kiss.
He was taken aback, sure. But it merely took him a few seconds to answer your gesture and deepen the kiss even more.
“You didn’t just do it for me, and you know that.” You giggled as you pulled back for air, and he could barely open his eyes, still captured in the haze of your presence.
“Well, I also did it for you.” He answered, in that tone that he has when he’s excited, where most of the internet won’t be able to decipher if he’s crying or just genuinely laughing. But of course, you would know.
You looked at him, lips red from your kissing, and you chuckled once more. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you almost wondered if your eyes turned into heart shapes.
“Lando,” you breathed, his name being just a singular word, but it came out more shaky than ever. “I think I’m ready.”
He was at a loss for words. In the months you had been together, neither of you had initiated the following step of intercourse. And neither of you felt the need to. It’s not like you and Lando had never done this before. This undoubtedly wasn’t your first relationship. But you had thought this fell under the term of taking it slow, and the desire just had not been there yet.
Until now. And he didn’t know what to say.
“If you don’t want to, we can just-“ “No, no-“ he cut you off, trying to come up with the right words. He did want to, but it just didn’t come out. Your gentle smile started to turn into a frown.
“I do,” he started. “I want to, I-“ he was flustered. And slowly, your nerves started to fade, and a smile came back to your face.
“Lando,” it was now your turn to place your palms on his cheeks, resulting in his landing on your hips. “Easy. No need to get so nervous.”
He let out a profound sigh of relief, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
You clasped his dampened hand, leading him to your bedroom. It hadn’t been the first time he entered this part of your small apartment, and neither had it been the first time he had been in this bed. But this time it was different. And he wasn’t certain if he should be nervous or excited about this next step.
You looked outside the window above your bed, the moon coming to stand high in the unclouded sky as the sun said a quick hello to its other half before starting to strike the horizon and taking the light with it.
The golden hour had started, and somehow it made you experience all kinds of things for this intimate moment.
You sat down on the bottom end of the twin-sized bed, pulling Lando down with you so he sad next to you. You experienced a tingling sensation between your legs, but you weren’t entirely sure how to start acting on it.
And then you did. Unknown courage entered your body, whether it was lust or braveness, you weren’t certain. But you carefully placed your lips onto his, after which he immediately returned the favour.
You carefully stood up, Lando wanted to follow your eager actions, but you gently pushed him back down on the bed and sat on his lap, a leg on each side of him.
His graceful hands landed on your hips, your hands on his warm face, as you both battled it out for dominance into the kiss. It wasn’t rough, but both of you were desperate.
Lando decided to take a bit of control, messily picking you up and gently lowering you onto the soft covers of your bed, not breaking the kiss as he came to hover above you.
When you broke apart for air, you reassuringly smiled at each other and loving eyes never breaking contact.
“You know, Carlos told me the other day that -“ “Lando, shut up about Carlos right now.” You cut him off as you passionately kissed him again, this time hungrily trying to pry his hoodie off of him, but failing miserably.
He broke the kiss, lifting himself up and taking off his neon yellow piece of clothing, only to reveal yet another piece in the shape of a t-shirt.
“I swear to god, you are going to be suffering from a heat stroke someday.” You chuckled at the man above you, delivering him a look and he took the hint and undid himself from his shirt as well before leaning back down to capture you in another kiss with a smile.
He didn’t answer your humorous remark. But he didn’t have to. You knew he wouldn’t listen anyway.
You allowed your hands to roam over his chest, down his abdomen and towards his joggers. But, before you could reach the hem, he stopped you. He gently shoved your hands away as he reached for your shirt, and you took the hint to sit up and assist him.
Breaking the kiss for no more than a few seconds, his lips were on yours again after successfully removing your piece of clothing and you took off your bra before laying back down.
Nerves settled in your stomach and Lando could immediately sense it.
“Hey, love,” he broke the kiss to look into your eyes, barely glancing a single look at your exposed chest just yet. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“I know,” you smiled at him and reached up to cup his cheek and gently stroke the area with your thumb. “I want to. But it’s been a while.”
He did nothing but smile at you. That warm, loving smile embracing all of the unique features on his face, the smile that got you head over heels for him in the first place.
“Okay,” he chuckled. “Can I?” He finally gestured to your chest, and you nodded before biting your lip and letting go of his warm cheek.
Lando gave you a final kiss to your lips, before finding a path down your neck, towards the valley of your breasts. He placed his tongue around your left nipple while taking care of the other with his strong fingers.
A contented sigh escaped your lips, and you could feel him smile against your skin as you let your fingers glide through his soft curls. The hand that was caressing your breast hesitantly left its spot, and like it had a mind of its own, travelled down to your own joggers. Lando loosened the knot in the strings which were used to keep them up, and his mouth left the spot on your other breast.
He travelled down, placing delicate kisses on your stomach on the way, causing your hands to glide from his hair and land next to you on the mattress.
He shot you one last questioning glance, and you slowly but eagerly nodded, and he grasped this as his sign to carefully undo you from your pants.
Much to your dismay, Lando took his time. Your joggers slid off your thighs with ease, and you felt his delicate and strong fingers glide over your sensitive skin. You shivered out of sensual pleasure, and your boyfriend looked up with a sly smirk. Your thighs were one of your most sensitive spots, and his gentle touch sent goosebumps over your body. He now knew that, too.
When one of the final pieces of fabric had been taken off your body, Lando gently tossed it towards the chair in the corner of your room, where his sweater and both your t-shirts and his hoodie had previously ended up as well.
You looked at him as he stood at the edge of your bed, and you couldn't decide what you desired to do more; hide yourself from his intense gaze, or let your mouth water at the sight of his trained torso.
Lando, however, didn't allow you to think twice and was soon quick to hover back above you and plant another kiss on your reddened lips.
His wet kisses went towards your neck, to a certain spot just below your ear, towards the place your neck and shoulder meet. You felt his tongue on your skin, rosy lips surrounding the wet sensation, as he forcefully sucked on the spot.
Your right hand flew towards the nape of his neck, right where his hair ended, and tried its best to eagerly grasp whatever it could find.
Simultaneously, your other hand ended on his side, your touch tickling his exposed skin, and he couldn't help but chuckle.
Another sigh unwillingly escaped your lips at the sensation, and he got back up to examine your eyes.
Your pupils were heavily dilated, your breath was unsteady, and sweat started to form on your forehead near your hairline. But he couldn't help but look at you adoringly.
"Can I touch you?" Lando asked, a charming smile still plastered on his face. You could barely answer. Your chest felt incredibly tight, and your mind was filled with just one word as you looked at the man above you; love.
It frightened you. Absolutely terrified you. Neither of you had shared the three most famous words yet, and you certainly didn't expect it would take this to deliver them into your mind.
Feeling like you've let your boyfriend wait long enough, you eagerly nodded before giving him one last kiss.
Lando looked at the purple reminder on the side of your throat with a proud smile before he let his hands wander down towards your underwear. His eager hands slipped into your panties, a quivering breath escaping your lips as his thumb put pressure on your small bundle of nerves when he found it.
With one final look of approval, he slid off your panties with ease and stashed them with the rest.
His fingers caressed your thighs before finding their way towards your core. He slowly made his way towards the part where you desired him most, but not before teasing the whole area, naturally causing you to let out a frustrated groan.
Lando chuckled. Actually chuckled. It wasn't the first time he had done this tonight, but you never believed sex could actually be funny. And it made the experience all the better.
He finally thought you had had enough teasing for the night, and he carefully entered you with his pointer finger.
To be absolutely honest, he had no idea what he was doing. He tried to memorise stories from others or books he had only half read and then tossed them somewhere randomly, but he never came close to doing it like that himself.
Anticipating your reaction, Lando added another finger when he noticed you clenching around the bare minimum. He moved, slowly but steadily, and small moans began to erupt from your throat.
"Is this okay?" Lando asked after a few strokes, looking up at you to await your reaction.
"Apply pressure with your thumb, right here." You informed him, moving his hand in the slightest and repositioning it to your liking.
And once he applied pressure to the part where you needed him most, and hit a good spot inside, you were almost done for.
Your head fell back into the pillows while he felt his fingers gain more wetness from your core, and your hands reached out to grab a hold of his hair but were met with nothing but air.
He took the hint of your desperate gesture, slightly moving his head towards the direction of your hands as they were still grabbing around for him- like a child reaching for its toy.
You pulled on a particular strand of his soft curls, and he wasn't certain whether he groaned out of pain or pleasure. But, after detecting the sounds that escaped your lips, he was sure it definitely must have been the latter.
"Y/n," Lando breathed as he looked up, meeting your distracted gaze. "Your pretty sounds are like music to my ears, and I could listen to them all day."
You let a slight laugh escape your lips as your head fell back, and you gave another loving tug to his hair.
"Lando," you mimicked his tone, another quivering breath leaving your lips as he continued his pleasurable pace with his fingers. "I- I kinda need you now, are you ready?" You could barely speak, too distracted by the feeling between your legs and the butterflies that erupted through your entire body.
"I think I am," he said as he retreated his fingers, awkwardly looking at them as he secretly swiped them off on his joggers. "Might need a few- uh- strokes. But I think we should be okay."
We.
This was the moment you were about to become one, the final parts of your bodied finally exposed to each other.
"Do you have any condoms?" He asked, and you recognised the minor change in his voice; he felt awkward.
And you totally reciprocated the feeling. There was barely anything more awkward than sharing this kind of intimacy for the first time, being new to each other's likes and pleasures, and having to find out what turned the other on.
You sat up and leaned on your elbows before pointing at the closet on the other side of the room.
"They're in there, uh, top shelf." you stated, and he clumsily walked over to the piece of furniture. His eyes widened at the sight when he opened it and felt a sudden wave of redness taking over his whole body.
"There's- you have a full box of them?" He said as he grabbed the box and turned to you. You fell back, hands covering your flushed face.
"Diane gave them to me a couple of days after her party," you mumbled, a sigh escaping your lips. "She saw us talk and, well, yeah. You know her." A simple 'oh' had left his lips before he grabbed one chrome-looking package from the box and placed the rest back.
"Well, at least we have them." He laughed awkwardly as he returned to the bed, a shaky 'yeah' coming from you as a response.
You retracted your arms as you saw him sitting next to you on the bed, the golden light from outside perfectly framing his features.
The golden hour was made for him.
And you were the lucky one that had him in their bed.
Lando undid himself off his joggers, not caring enough to put them with the rest- so he just left them where he took them off. His boxers followed soon after as he sat back down on the soft covers of the bed.
You barely dared to look, but eventually, you did. And you carefully reached for his member, gently wrapping your fingers around the length. You looked up to search for a look that would tell you he was uncomfortable, but it was the contrary. He sought his best intentions to hold in a moan, but as you started to move your hand, he failed miserably.
He, in turn, reached back between your legs to bring back that on-edge feeling you almost felt before he stopped.
Warming up to each other, Lando retracted his hand, grabbed onto the wrist of your hand that was working on his member, and placed it beside your head. His fingers felt slick, once more covered in the wetness of your own arousal.
Gently, he came to a position in between your legs, leaning on his knees and his hardened length halfway towards his stomach.
He messily tried to rip the foil package in two, barely succeeding but ultimately held the condom between his fingers before rolling it onto his member.
Lando leaned forwards, and he placed his hands on either side of your head, your legs locking around his hips and your hands finding their way to his sides.
"At any time, please tell me if you're uncomfortable, okay?" he said, and you nodded eagerly before responding, "Same to you."
You closed your eyes as he wettened his tip with your arousal and carefully entered you. It wasn't pain that rushed through you, but it did feel unpleasant. You placed your hands on his chest to halt his movements and took your time to adjust to the new feeling of your boyfriend inside of you.
When you opened your eyes, you were confronted with the most caring and loving gaze you had ever encountered. You knew Lando wasn't experienced, and neither were you, but he genuinely cared so much about your well-being. It made this new experience so much better.
"You can move," you told him after about half a minute. "God, please do." He smiled at you before placing a delicate kiss on your lips, and he carefully started to move.
The feeling soon turned into pleasure for both of you and suddenly, neither of you could get enough of each other's touch.
Kisses were messy, loose strands of hair were being pulled, and nothing could ever beat this moment of being intimate with your partner for the first time. Lando made it perfect for you.
After a couple of strokes, you experienced a vaguely familiar sensation building in the pit of your stomach and a tingling feeling coming from your core.
But, you weren't quite there yet. Therefore, you grasped one of his hands and assisted him towards the part where you needed him the most. He took the hint, placed his thumb on your clit, and started making figure eights on the little bundle of nerves. It wasn't perfect, but it worked, and his name started rolling off your tongue more than once.
And it was the same for him. Watching you unravel in pleasure caused by him, your breasts bouncing with each move of his hips like you were a machine tangled in each other. And at that moment, it felt like you only worked with each other.
Your soft walls gripped around him, and he was afraid he wouldn't last much longer, but for you, he would try. For you, he would do everything.
"Lando, please move faster." His unique name escaped your sensual lips in a hurry, a mix of sighs and groans barely making it clear what you were saying. But he understood and got on with it.
"You feel so good," Lando said as he started building up a quicker pace. "Please tell me what you want. What you need."
"Anything, everything," you breathed, grabbing his hand that was working on your clit, and gently pulling him back up to get him into your line of view. "Kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it."
And so he did. It wasn't pretty; teeth clashing, lip biting. But it was everything you could wish for.
When Lando started to chase his own orgasm, he instinctively picked up his pace and twisted it into a couple of rough trusts. He wasn't certain what came over him, and for a second, he was anxious this might not be as pleasurable for you as it was for him. But all his worries faded as soon as you pulled him into an embrace, and he fell atop of you, his face buried in your neck, and you vaguely mumbled a couple of words;
"You can have my babies." You told him. He wasn't entirely sure where that came from, but simultaneously, he wasn't complaining.
You, on the other hand, felt embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth and mumbled a scared 'I'm sorry' to your boyfriend.
He retreated from your passionate hold with a reassuring smile, caressing your rosy cheek with his strong fingers. His pace slowed down a bit, but he didn't stop. And that eased your worries the tiniest bit.
"Don't apologise," he chuckled. This man, you thought. He can laugh about everything. "Though I'm not entirely sure where that came from, it might be a little too soon to be thinking about babies."
"No, please, I don't,-" you desperately sighed after taking your hand from your lips. "I don't want any babies. It just happened, I felt hot and my mind took me somewhere else and I just-"
"Ooh! So you have a breeding kink!" Lando exclaimed joyfully, and you felt your face redden at his blunt words. His movements halted, his hand returning towards the back of your neck as he rejoined your embrace.
"Do not fucking speak about this," you said as you hugged him back, feeling his bare skin against yours increasing the pressure between your legs. "In fact, don't mention it for another while. I don't want to think about it."
"As you wish." he smiled, and you were internally grateful he made no big deal about it and didn't find it the biggest turnoff in the bedroom. Everyone has their kinks. You just didn't expect yours to come out during the first time with your current boyfriend.
Lando picked his pace back up, and the feeling in your stomach returned as quickly as it faded before. You let your hands roam through his hair, caressing the back of his neck, as he started pushing in with stuttering thrusts, each of them slow and deep instead of harsh and sloppy.
You tactically moved your hips, trying to find that little fiction from his pelvis against your bundle of nerves, but your desperate movement caused him to reach that spot inside of you.
"Oh- oh my god." You instantly moaned, and Lando came back slightly to look at you, asking if you were okay.
"Definitely. More than alright," a faint sound of a passionate sob escaped your lips as he continued hitting your pleasantest part, a smirk forming on his lips. "Right there, right there."
He felt satisfied with himself. For a second, he was that proud boy who couldn't handle losing. And he felt like he had just won his favourite game.
"Right there, huh?" he teased you, and you quickly nodded before he kissed you again. However, because of your shortened breaths, neither of you could maintain a kiss as Lando picked up his pace and tried to both chase his own high and bring you to yours.
Your foreheads touched, lips just inches away from their other half as the both of you breathed through your mouths to get more air.
Lando shot a brief glance to where your bodies met before he could barely hold on to his pace and started to get sloppy.
You thanked nobody in particular that you had randomly come across a professional athlete. Because no other boy had ever even come close to the stamina the one above you had. nobody gave you the right amount of pleasure. None of them listened to your needs, and most importantly, none of them had ever given you relief.
Your walls tightened, white noise filled your ears, stars came through your vision and you softly clawed on Lando his arms as your high washed over you.
This was how it was supposed to feel.
Lando let out a particularly deep groan, grunting in your ear as your name left his lips, and he released into the condom. The feeling of your orgasm was simply too much for him, but he wished this moment would’ve lasted forever.
For a precious second, everything went quiet. No sounds filled the room except for your shortened breaths, and you took the time to just look at one another. Both of you were smiling contently, and you caressed his cheekbones with your fingers. Lando closed his eyes, simply enjoying your touch, and you looked at the spot where his lashes met his glistering skin.
“Lando,” you started, and he opened his eyes to meet your loving gaze. “I think I-“ You could barely let it out, afraid of what might change. Did he even feel the same way? Did you feel that way? Or was this just the heat of the moment for you, and would you wish you could take back your words right after you said them?
“I love you, too.” Lando finished your sentence, adding the last part to let you know he did feel the same way. You chuckled and pulled him down towards your lips, giving him a kiss that held more words than you could ever speak.
You quickly became to realise Lando never pulled out, and his sudden movement caused you to tremble lightly, suddenly feeling overstimulated by the feeling between your legs.
“I love you, but I’m getting a little overwhelmed here.” You grinned up at him as you pulled apart, after which he replied a quick ‘right, sorry’ and carefully pulled out of you immediately.
A gentle sigh mixed with a moan left your lips at the friction, but Lando got up and went over to your bathroom to toss away the condom and returned with a dampened washing cloth so you could clean yourself.
You looked at him with adoration as he re-entered your room, eyes lingering on his trained abdomen and once more realising how good looking this man actually was.
“See something you like?” Lando said as he handed you the cloth, and you carefully cleaned your core and made sure not to touch any sensitive spots.
“Certainly,” you said as you got up and headed towards the bathroom as well, causing your boyfriend to frown in confusion. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’m just going to pee. Does wonders for your health.” You gave him a wink as you turned the corner while biting your lip to contain another laugh.
You were happy
Lando laughed at your remark before putting his boxers on and turning on the nightlight next to your bed. He slid under the covers, quickly checking his phone, though he didn’t find anything worth replying to.
Once you returned, you also put on some clean panties and joined him under the covers of your warm bed.
You shot a glance at your phone on the nightstand, lighting up with multiple alerts of missed calls and messages, but you weren’t worried about them for a second. The only thing you saw was the name of your friend in the notifications and decided to briefly look at what she needed but didn’t care about responding.
Please tell me you finally fucked.
He ended p2!! P2 darling!!
That has to be the perfect moment for a celebration.
She was unbelievable. Of course, this had to be her way of asking, so blunt yet totally in her style. You couldn’t help but laugh.
“What is it?” Lando asked when you put your phone back on the nightstand and snuggled into your pillows, your gaze pointing at the ceiling.
“Diane,” you simply answered. “I don’t think any more context is needed.” He let out a small chuckle at that, immediately knowing what you were implying.
“I take it she knows her box came in handy, then?” he replied, and you just nodded.
You looked over at him, laying on his side and not breaking his stare at you. His head fit perfectly in the pillow underneath him, and he looked so comfortable that you could nearly cry.
“I love you.” You said, this time officially and quietly, and he was happy to respond.
“I love you, too.”
You hated accidents. Except when you went from friends to this.
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slickfordain · 8 months ago
Note
POOKS I HAVE AN IDEA
Ahem...yandere aiden, logan, tyler n ash or whoever u want w WEAK READER N YK THEY R PRETTY OVERPROTECTIVD OF HER WHY? bc she is fragile af-- always manage to get herself injured in the most dunb ways possible n how tf is she gonna manage to survive in this realm? She needs them ‼️‼️
𝕭𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 // School Bus Graveyard
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TW: Yandere themed, NO NSFW, gore/injuries mentioned, fragile!female!reader who is paranoid and anxious, AU explanation-wise writing? It’s kind of short but it’s like an explanation what my SBG x reader AU is;;u ;
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You don’t know how you even ended up here in this situation…. Restless sleep, insomnia, hallucinations,— Ah… Who am I kidding? You knew exactly what was happening and it all started way back when you were ordered to tutor around the new students. Being the one who wasn’t new, it was hard to keep a conversation with them because….. One would keep her distance away, one would be thrilled to nag the girl who distanced away, the twins didn’t give a damn, and… Ben and Logan were probably the only ones who ever offered to listen to you.
However despite those hours you eventually got to bond with them, all because of… Well…. You tripping down the stairs all of the sudden until Ashlyn caught you. And that’s where the spark happened… That’s what clicked in Ashlyn’s mind to suddenly want to protect you, with you in her arms looking hopeless and defenseless. The group claimed you as their pink princess but, you didn’t thought much of it….
And why they even bother to call you that, you still felt loved at least by your friends.
But… Every time you walk home after hanging out with them, especially on that trip, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The thought of that hideous creature behind Ashlyn…. You haven’t left your house since then, and gave excuses to your teacher even for him to understand.
You’ve never felt anything weird like this before… The ones you are looking to avoid were mostly creepy men, or just in general a group of people who you think could possibly bully you, or take advantage.
So why? Why did you suddenly have to endure horror?
❝[NAME]!!!❞
You’ve impaled yourself on accident by trying to get away from a monster, you’ve tripped and fallen into a dark void where you died by the fall, you even somehow died by trying to save Tyler, but you ended up dying anyways! It was getting so… So much harder…
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You’ve gotten injured. Over, and over, and over again. It’s pissing Ashlyn, Aiden, Tyler— everyone off. It was as if they saw life flash before their eyes…. And while you’re alive in the real world, with no scratches or injuries, they couldn’t afford to lose you again. To make you hopeless, to make you unable to walk.
It was another dream, another dream where suddenly you’re locked in the bird cage Aiden had somehow decided to buy… You stared confused, yearning for an explanation…. But the boys and girls wouldn’t give you any.
❝Guys..? Please… I thought we were a team..❞
❝Princess… We are! We swear…! Please don’t take it badly! We’re doing this for your own good…❞
You couldn’t really argue with them. You’re just tired and you have been unable to get proper sleep… You suppose it’s okay but… It wasn’t getting better as you thought it would. Despite dreams having you only locked up every now and then, in the morning in reality- you are FOLLOWED constantly by either the twins, Ashlyn, Aiden, or Ben… Logan? Probably cameras in your house (not your bedroom or bathroom) to ensure you made it home safely.
It’s getting out of hand. It’s going bizarre, but are you doing something about it? NO! Their parents scares you! You don’t want to break your friendship either… You knew how easily broken they’d be… And… You don’t want to handle or deal with Aiden’s family, nor do you wanna karate with Ashlyn’s mother. You can’t even fight!
So the only thing you could do was just… Accept it as it is. And let it be… Although you probably aren’t aware that the parents adores you, finding you so sweet and matchable for their little children. You don’t pay attention to that, all you could focus on were your eyebags and your injured body…. There wasn’t anything, reality-wise, but God it stung that you could barely make it through school. Even though I kind of said you give excuses…. You still had to do exams for at least collage….
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Don’t take them wrong, they’d love for you to stay safe and to not join the horror attraction… But also, after the reveal when the parents could also see the demonic creatures, it instantly clicks that you weren’t safe. Nor were your parents. (Don’t give a damn about your parents, they don’t like them)
They need you. They constantly need you. They can’t have you out of your cage, but they can’t have you out of the dreams as well…. Which considers leading it to having you as some sort of a motivation. They need you to support them for everything they do.
So when the parents are going into that situation, it’s best to believe they NEED you with them so nobody in reality can kidnap you while they’re asleep…. Fighting off monsters, you know?
And the shady guys? Do not worry a single thing about them at all.
I mean, what more could you possibly do than to be stuck in your own bedroom or classroom? You’re going nowhere near the stores or arcade. Not after that Logan incident, that is….
435 notes · View notes
ajortga · 8 months ago
Text
for i can't help falling in love with you
pairing: vada cavell x fem reader
summary: not only are you new and in almost all of vada's classes, but the more you get to know each other, the more you hang out. she starts to think maybe your friendship is more than what she thought it was, she's feeling something she knows that you shouldn't feel for a friend.
word count: 10.1k+
a/n: this is the longest fic i've ever written, this is fluffy and sweet, spent way too long on it but nonetheless, not regretful!
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based off a request! this is for my vada <3ers
-
R transfers, V sees her almost all the time and eventually starts falling for R, V then embarrassingly asks R out for dinner! Just plainly puppy love, literally not much but I find these types of tropes sooo comforting, u can change some up a bit!!
-
It’s loud, bustling, chaotic every single day in the cafeteria.
As soon as the bell rings around the hallways and into the classrooms for lunch break, everyone slams into each other and sprints to the front of the lunch line. Vada even remembers while she walked with Nick some boy tripped in thin air and fell to the floor. She couldn’t help but laugh a little. That was until Nick and her found out he had to get stitches to repair his nose. 
She laughed even harder, she couldn’t help it.
Vada slurped her slushy as she kicked her feet, talking with Nick who was drinking an iced latte.
“In a sense, slurpees are better than coffee. You don’t have to immediately shit diarrhea as soon as you plop on the toilet.”
He agrees, rolling his eyes, “Yeah but who would want slushies every day? They stain your mouth.”
“Well would you rather have a temporary colorful tongue that can be seen as cool, or stay in the bathroom while crying for help?”
It seems like as soon as she said it, Nick gagged as he held his stomach.
“You have 30 seconds before you're going to shit your pants,” she states, looking at him up and down. He wasn’t moving.
“Nick, go!” Vada yelled as she choked on a small giggle, watching Nick run to the bathroom holding his pants up to his sides.
As the baggy clothed brunette watched her best friend race to the bathroom, she clicked her tongue and shook her head. Vada slurped on her red slushy. 
She was waiting for Nick until she noticed someone with a jacket wrapped around a tank top with her headphones on and book in one hand. You. She’s never seen you before and it was almost certain she’s seen everyone at least once before to know their name. She was bored, so she just watched.
You were folding a gum wrapper into a heart while you followed Mia into the girls restroom. Mia was always the one to give student tours when she could. You must’ve been new. But then you came back out without your jacket, holding it in the other hand as she saw Mia’s slushie spilled all over your jacket. She could almost hear how she was apologizing over and over again and you smiled it off, showing her how it was okay and you could clean up when you got home. 
Then she took you back to her friend group, seeing the way your hair went side to side as you walked. Before she could watch you even more, Nick called out her name.
“I just took the biggest shit of my li- what are you looking at?”
She hears him but doesn’t turn his way,still looking a little, “Just someone who I think is new. Mia is giving her a tour.”
Nick said a small “ohhh..” in response, “Well what’s so exciting about that?”
“Mia accidentally spilled the slushie we bought this morning on her jacket by accident.”
“That’s so not cool, she must be cold having to take that off, was she mad?”
“No, she just brushed it off, smiled in a somewhat assuring way, and gave Mia the gum wrapper she folded before Mia took her back to her friend group.”
“Ooh. She’s patient then.”
“Yeah.”
-
After lunch passed, Vada realized you were in almost all her periods, well only the ones she attended. Sometimes she was late from Amelia hogging the bus. You kept to yourself, gave shy smiles as the teachers introduced you.
But as the next day rose she was back at school again.
Her favorite class was her film class, it was like a free period and she got to touch cameras and watch movies at least twice a week.
She sits in the corner of the room, she likes the way she can look out the window and see the sight of the sky while also seeing her own reflection.
FIlm class is oddly comforting, music always plays before the period begins. She places her phone on top of her desk.
So for the third time that day, she sees you walk through, with your backpack hung over one shoulder and the other with a book. She wants to feel surprised, almost strange how you end up in her class, but instead she almost feels a sense of gratefulness. 
She doesn’t want to stare. But her eyes betray her, because in one second her eyes are on you. New students weren’t regular, well in her core classes, sure. But film? Almost never. She watches the way you wait by the teacher’s desk, waiting, unsure, not knowing if you should tap her shoulder or just wait until she notices you. Usually, Vada and Mia would sit together, but sometimes on bad days, they would have to move from talking and laughing too much. So they stuck to sitting diagonally and passing notes in the back of the classroom. Finally, the teacher notices you and the smile she gives you is almost too happy as she rubs your shoulder and stands up.
“Alright everyone,” she quiets down her music, “..usually during film I’d let the music keep rolling, but just for today I’d like you to greet our new student who just transferred here. Her name is Y/N.”
People around the class say awkward hi’s, random waves, some of the girls stare at you and awe, and even some of the well-known guys look at you, eyebrows raised and Vada can almost feel their want for you. 
It makes her roll her eyes in disgust.
You do an awkward wave, wanting to shrink into the floor, a smile tugged at your lips.
“Okay sweetheart, there aren’t many options for seating since this class is more compacted than my others. But you can sit next to Vada.” Ms. Valentina points at Vada, “She’s the one in the very back, the open seat behind Mia.” 
Your eyes almost light up when you notice Mia’s in your class, giving a small nod and trying to squish into the back. 
Mia waves at you, shaking your shoulders to show her excitement as you sit down. Vada can almost smell the sweetness of your shampoo when you sit. It smells like ripe strawberries with the fulfilling scent of roasted marshmallows. She wants to sniff your hair, but you’re already pulling out your notebook from your backpack.
“Hey girl!” Mia whispers, turning around to face you as you smile.
“Hey slurpee stainer,” you joke, your voice is soft, airy, melodic. Not like anything Vada’s ever heard. Sure she’s heard many voices, but yours sounded like a lullaby to shush a baby to sleep if you wanted to.
Mia giggles, slapping your arm, “I said I’m sorryyyy. I’d say I’d take you shopping on the weekends! Don’t use that against me,” she scolds, and that makes you laugh, you cup your mouth to contain the giggles and Vada can hear an adorable squeak come out from it.
“I know, don’t be sorry, I was just joking, I’ll just wash it when I get home,” you whisper.
Before you two could talk again the teacher spoke, “Okay guys, it was a long day yesterday and I was planning on printing out some papers for assignments two days prior, but our school printer broke and the ink on mine is hanging on for dear life.” She pauses, everyone didn’t know where she was going with this, “So I’m just going to roll a movie, you guys can choose but I really don’t have much. You can talk, keep it low and hey, if you’re sitting around Y/N, lighten up the mood and get to know her.”
There were random okays and suggestions. As Ms. Valentina kept reading aloud the names, it was almost certain that Shrek was going to be chosen. For the third time this month. Until she spoke out a new suggestion, and everyone chose La La Land instead.
As she played the movie off the projector, Mia scooted to you.
“Okay, so no pressure, buttt my dad's gone today and I know you said you didn’t have homework. If you don’t want to, it's completely understandable, but me and Vada,” she gestures to the brunette sitting next to you, with her hands clasped together and looking at you with interest, “We sometimes go on pool runs or just drive to the nearest seven eleven. Honestly, it’s whatever. But if you wanna hang, I can give you a ride back home, let you drop off your stuff, and we can get to know each other more at mine. What are you thinking?”
Your lips tug into a thoughtful grin, telling Mia she doesn’t have to because she accidentally spilled her drink on you. But Vada kept staring at you. The blonde glanced at her, she saw her basically staring at your side profile, then back at you before giving her a light leg nudge that you didn’t notice. 
“No no! Don’t feel pressured, just know that” Mia breathes and pats your forearm reassuringly, “..that I think we should hang out more, kay? You don’t know how many people don’t get mad when someone spills something on them. At least you’re someone who's patient as hell.” She makes you laugh as you think again.
“Okay, I’d love that,” you respond, simply. 
“Then it’s set! Just meet us at that broccoli lookin’ tree, kay?”
-
As soon as the bell roars and everyone starts opening the gates like it’s the ones they’ll see in heaven, you squish into the crowd of people and look for this broccoli looking tree Mia was referring to. It didn’t take you long.
The only broccoli looking tree was the only tree that was stranded from all the poofy and leafy looking trees, and you could see her with the other brunette that you sat next to in class. You think her name was Vada. You didn’t want to ask, if you did and Vada wasn’t her name, you might as well crawl into a hole. 
Mia immediately greets you.
Vada kicks at dirt beneath her, smiling a little foolishly, she realizes when she thinks how silly she might look to you. Her silly smile slightly fades to a more soft one to try and not seem weird. Instead you feel like she might feel uncomfortable with you, maybe she’s closed to people she meets at first. You hope that it doesn’t stay that way
“Get in!” The blonde smiles, and you swerve into the backseat as you drive off to the nearest seven eleven.
Mia’s car smells like flowers, you almost feel a little carsick from the leather and floral scent mixed together. You smell something else though, sweet plum and fluffy musk. You think it’s Vada, you can almost smell her shampoo from here.
It’s a little quiet, Mia talks to Vada, you try not to disrupt so you pretend you're looking at the window staring at literally nothing. It’s like the blue-eyed girl can see the way you try to keep to yourself and don’t want to be involved when you don’t think you should. So she bumps the music up.
Vada wants to talk to you. She can feel this urge for her heart to make her mouth open and speak. But for some reason she feels nervous. It’s weird, she’s usually open and starts off with teasing. Why can’t she speak now? Maybe it’s because.. Vada doesn’t even have a reason to know, she just doesn’t know.
“Dude, how is there traffic already to go to a fucking seven-eleven? We literally just left school.” Mia murmurs, tapping her shoes to the music.
Vada turns around, to look at the cars behind her, maybe to check how many are behind her.
That’s what Mia thought, but Vada wondered what you were doing. She's never met someone that tries to be considerate, to be polite and not wanting to interrupt anyone at any time
She notices the way you take the opportunity of the slightly opened window to take a breath of fresh air and let that small crack to let the small breeze blow through your hair. She sees the way you twirl your necklace up and down, side to side, then spin it around your fingers. She notices how you don’t notice her, so you don’t look at her, you look at the sky, the small baby cows, the cars. 
It’s like a pencil is engraving into her mind to write all the details she sees. But she doesn’t know why. 
Your figure slightly leans into the window, closing your eyes to rest. Maybe you’re thinking about Mia and what a good friend she is. Maybe you’re thinking about wanting to get to know her, Vada. Maybe you’re thinking of how long it’ll take for you to blend in into this place. Maybe you’re thinking how your place didn’t have many cows everywhere. Maybe you lived in the snowy mountains, or the coastal shorelines where you could take a dip in cool water every summer morning.
She sees your eyes flutter as the car slowly stops. Her body tenses and turns back to the front, you’re already at seven-eleven. 
“It’s honestly kind of warm outside, I can turn on the AC on this thing if you don’t wanna go,” Mia says, finally turning around to look at you rubbing your eyes.
“No, no, it’s ‘kay, I’ll come, gotta exercise these legs anyway.” You say, opening her door and following suite with Mia and Vada. The small concreted rocks crunching beneath your shoes. 
Mia obviously wants to check out the candy section, but Vada wants another slushy. 
“Hold up, I think they have the candy they didn’t have when I checked the other time. Vadaaa you can just roam with Y/N. I’m not sure if you guys had seven-eleven where you lived.” She peeks into the candy section and with a spin of a corner she’s gone.
Vada stands there, awkwardly. She feels like if anything, you should be the one standing there like that. You stand there, looking at the slushies. Cola, blue raspberry, cherry, mountain dew, honestly you didn’t know if you should get one.
“Do you want to get one?” Vada asks, the first time you really heard her speak.
Your ears perk, turning to face her, “I’m not really a slushy person,” you speak softly, “I’m a little thirsty though.”
Vada smiles at that, “I like the cherry flavor and blue raspberry, but you gotta swirl it a certain way for it to taste the way I really like it, y’know?” She speaks, you nod, noticing her baggy basketball shorts and oversized shirt.
She walks closer, she can smell the same sweetness of your scent. Strawberries and roasted marshmallows. Your scent is oddly comforting, a scent where anyone would hug you longer and never let you go to smell it forever.
She stops before you can process anything, slightly backing away and focusing on the slushy dispenser.
“Okay. So like, I know you’re probably not supposed to do this but I just put my index and middle finger under the dispenser and,” she stops, looking at you, “make sure you wash your hands though,” she laughs. “But if you don’t know what flavor, just lick it off your fingers.”
Vada can almost sense you suppressing your laughter, “Seriously! I don’t give two shits about those security cameras. Honestly we go here so often we could get a free slushy and not pay.” She places her fingers under the dispenser of the cherry blast and presses the button, stopping it and licking it off her fingers.
It’s like she’s teaching you. She likes the way you’re interested and really looks like you want to learn.
“Do you want to try?” The slightly shorter brunette asks, her voice trying not to seem pressuring at all.
You think, looking at her fingers as she wipes it with a random brown napkin and throwing it away in the trash, “Okay,” your smooth voice responds before approaching beside her.
You use your index finger and place it under the blue raspberry one.
“This one?” Vada questions, when you nod she presses softly on the dispense button.
Your giggle from the icy cold makes her feel like the happiness she feels when she makes a small child laugh.
Vada turns to look at you and smiles, taking off her hand off the dispense button and watching you lick your fingers. (they were clean I promise)
“I like this one,” you say, making a small eye contact glance with her.
“Do you want it? I can pay.”
“It’s okay, I’ll see what’s at Mia’s home, I seriously don’t think I can finish the small one alone!”
-
Vada gets to know you more the more Mia invites you. She notices the way you open up, instead of trying to politely look out the window so you don’t disrupt conversations that you aren’t sure what their about, the car is lively,
Loud.
The music is always turned down now, giggles are filled, sometimes there are jokes about classes, teachers, people, the past.
Sometimes there are questions, family, hobbies.
Vada learns you have two siblings, a much younger and much older one, older brother, younger sister.
You like to read and write, play the guitar, bake, you love going on sunsetty and late night drives, it makes her interested in that part.
When you told her, a part of her wanted to tell you, ‘I like late night drives too.’ Maybe she’ll drive you around the freeway on a summer weekend in the future.
She likes the way you include her, how you always include people to make sure they never feel lonely.
She begins to notice the way your smiles aren’t shy anymore, they’re genuine. She can feel the way you’re opening up to her, from the way you look at her in a way she doesn’t remember. You look at her like she feels like she’s the only girl you’re looking at. She sees how your eyes soften in your irises the more you listen to her speak.
-
Vada never thought she’d experience jealousy for the first time in her life.
Sure she’s felt it before, when her fists clench when she had gotten second place when she was younger. It was like an ember. But this time, it was much stronger.
It was during some school event her high school came up with, couples day or what not.
You sat next to Vada and Nick during lunch, Mia with her friend group usually at this time. You were huddled up to Vada, munching on some chips with your hair up. 
“Omph, I think jazz is better than rock honestly,” you say, muffled with chips in your mouth.
“Mmm, reasonable.”
After taking a long refreshing sip of water, you and Vada stand up.
“Nick, me and Y/N are gonna meet up Mia in the hallway, ‘kay? See you weirdo,” Vada walks along with you as you two laugh with each other over random gossip.
As you see Mia in the distance, wanting to wave her over, your friend Liam grabs you by the waist, his hands gentle, flowers in his hand.
You almost jump. You met Liam around the first week of school, he was sweet, gentle-man like. He offered to study with you in the library after school. 
“Y/N, hey,” he says, his voice like syrup. Too sweet for your liking, “Sorry for pulling you away. I just wanted to tell you something.”
You saw how Vada stood on the side, awkwardly, not to mention how she was glaring at Liam.
You turn back to the curled hair blonde in front of you, “That’s ‘kay, what is it?”
Liam hands you the flowers he was holding, leaving you, almost confused, your face heating up.
“Look, I know I didn’t know you for long, but you’re sweet, you know? No one ever has to talk bad about you and to be in this school as a person like that is rare. I kind of, you know, like you. You’re pretty, really smart, and have a personality of gold. I know you don’t really like me, but I’d like to know what you think.”
You stare at the flowers held in your hands, your hands feel clammy. 
“Liam.. This is really sweet. I appreciate.. You know, you thinking of me in that silver lighting. It honestly, in a sense, makes me feel proud. Thanks. I, I think I need some time, I never thought of you as the kind of person I’d be in a relationship with. But maybe with time if we get to know each other.. You know.. Gosh I’m sorry.” Your voice trails off, a tight smile on your lips, seeing the way Liam nodded immediately in understanding. You felt bad. Rejecting the sweetest boy you ever knew in this school, you just never saw him as something more than a brother.
“Don’t be sorry Y/N, that’s okay, I know what you mean, I just wanted to tell you before it got out of hand, but hey, now that I told you, as long as we stay friends that’s okay. That won’t change any friendship right?”
“I promise,” you assure, smiling a little.
Liam nods again, flowers in your hand as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and leans in to kiss your forehead.
He then walks away and you look down at the flowers in hand.
“Okay, that was cheesy as hell,” Vada says, her voice almost annoyed, maybe from waiting to see Liam’s monologue.
“I didn’t even know he felt that way about me.”
Vada rolls her eyes, “Of course you don’t,” you can’t help but feel almost hurt from her words. It’s like she was calling you oblivious, ignorant.
“Why would he even give you flowers? Gosh, he’s going wild for you, you barely even know him. He’s doing too much for someone like you right now,” she scoffed, slightly, not knowing why someone that you haven’t known for a while would give you flowers so early when you didn’t know him that well. But she worded it so wrongly.
Offended, almost wounded, insulted. Did Vada really think you were the kind of person no one would like? Did one of your closest friends find you in a sense, unlovable?
Vada saw the way your figure tensed, your eyes narrowing, before looking like they were about to cry.
Shit. 
God she’s never seen you cry before. Vada felt her heart almost shatter, seeing the way your eyes were beginning to fill with tears. She didn’t mean it in a rude way, god now that she thinks about it, that’s one of the rudest things she could say. 
She didn’t mean it, Vada doesn’t even know why she said it, maybe she just didn’t think Liam was right for you. 
She felt jealousy, and she could feel it herself. Maybe she wanted a sweet guy too.
Or maybe she just wanted you.
“God Y/N, I didn’t mean-” Vada reaches her hand to your shoulder and immediately you shrug it off. 
“You don’t think that I’m lovable enough to truly be loved, is that what it is Vada?” You say, your eyes sharp, “You don’t think I’m capable of deserve someone like Liam? How do you even see me?” You murmur, looking obviously, something Vada never wanted in the first place, in disbelief to even feel a tear slip down to your cheek.
“No, I swear I just-”
The bell had rang, and before she could try to apologize, and run after you, you squeezed into the crowd of people, heading for the class Vada knew was the only one you didn’t have with her.
Mia watched from a distance, seeing how tears poured from your eyes as you pushed through the crowds of people.
-
It’s tense, sort of, when Mia drives to her house.
You’re not talking to Vada, headphones are in, basically screaming that you’re closed off right now. Vada wants to talk to you, but she doesn’t know how to apologize for something she didn’t mean.
You look at the window outside and she feels like this might’ve gone back to stage one, it might take weeks for you to open up again.
But yet again, you’re Y/N, she knows you too well to know that you would never try to ignore her for that long.
Mia has to turn up the music again, something that hasn’t really happened for almost a few months, making small talk with Vada.
When you get to her house, Vada holds the door for you, you don’t look at her, just mumble a small, “thanks.”
“Shoot, sorry guys, if you guys are okay with staying here for half an hour or so, that’d be great. I completely forgot I had to stay after school and drop off one of my friends,” Mia immediately slaps her face, grabbing her bag for dance as she looks back, “Fridge is open if you guys want snacks, remote is in the cabinet under the couch, and all those joints ‘n stuff are in the back. K, love you, see ya,” Mia says, blowing a funny air kiss before shutting the door.
Now it’s awkward, out of all days of course Mia has a practice.
It’s quiet, your headphones are hung around your neck, kicking your feet against the carpet uncomfortably, you don’t know if you want to speak.
“Please, can you talk to me?” Vada pleads, making you almost flinch.
“I’m sorry for what I said today, I swear I didn’t mean it in a mean way towards you. I hope you know me well enough to know I would never mean it, okay? I was just getting a little upset over the fact guys would try asking girls out when they don’t know them that much, you know?.. Um.. Yeah. I guess I got a little overprotective. So I’m sorry. I hate when we don’t talk, it makes me feel like you hate me and stuff.”
You look at her, tugging your bottom lip between your lips, then you breathe, “I don’t hate you Vads. I promise. I just got a little taken aback and I honestly felt a little hurt from your words, especially since I knew you weren’t the kind of person to say those things in a mean manner. I forgive you. I really care about you, it was just weird today. I already felt bad rejecting a sweet boy I met and I wasn’t expecting to have my feelings hurt about it, I know you didn’t mean it.”
“I swear I didn’t, I just didn’t think Liam should’ve asked you so early, I didn’t even think you gave any signs.”
You giggle, making Vada’s shoulders relax from your icy facade beginning to melt, “You sound jealous.”
“Oh, nuh-uh.”
“Mm..” You mutter, not believing her, and making her groan. 
Vada quickly changes the topic, realizing how red her face was. 
“Do you wanna.. Um, go outside? Take a breather for a bit.”
“Okay.”
As you two close the sliding door, Vada sits down next to you, the silence is now comfortable. Her eyes begin to linger on the pack of cigars in front of her.
“I know you’re not the kind to smoke, but do you wanna share a blunt with me?” Vada asks, softly, it’s a question that you know if you say no, she’ll completely get it.
You hesitate, you never smoked before, let alone want to. But you look at Vada’s eyes and your head nods yes.
“Okay.”
You can see the excitement on her face, she makes a small squeal as she begins to roll the blunt, lighting it up with a lighter, you see her brush off some of the dust. 
She places her lips on the cigarette, inhaling softly, before exhaling the smoke and a plethora of smoky fog wafts around you.
Her soft eyebrows raise, her eyes flicking to the blunt and your eyes, offering it to you.
Vada hears you breathe, she can almost feel your breath on her face as you look at the cigarette.
“A little help here?” You ask, voice tiny, shy. 
“Okay baby,” Vada jokes, seeing the way your lips try not to smile, but fail miserably.
Vada scoots closer to you, so you two are huddled up and she takes your hand, “Okay, you always spin your led pencil in class, just hold the blunt similarly.” She feels the warmth of your hand and it makes her breath hitch. She puts the blunt between your index and middle finger, in which you make sure to hold with grip. Vada taps on your thumb, “Up,” her voice instructs, in which you support your thumb to hold it.
“Hey, now you got it!” she pats your shoulder, like a ‘yay’
She leans closer to you, your face is mere inches apart as she gently places the end of the cigarette in your mouth. Immediately the smoke fills your senses and you look at Vada, she coaxes you, “Inhale, not too much.” You inhale, wait for a moment, then exhale. 
“There you go, you’re making me feel like a teacher Y/N,” she clicks her tongue.
She sees the way you exhale through your mouth, and the smoke fades in front of her face, you take another hit, this time you’re full on staring at Vada, with your doe eyes deep into hers. 
The smoke wafts around her again, and when you pass it to her, you lean into her. Hearing how her breath hitches, your body pressed against her.
It goes like that for a while, puff, puff, pass. Where Vada offers the blunt to you, but instead of taking it with your finger, your lips part and your teeth nibble on the cigarette for a moment. 
It’s like a game. She doesn’t know if it’s the humor you’ve grown, or the teasing. The teasing. But the way you make eye contact with her while your lips capture the blunt you two have shared makes her stomach stir.
While you smoke and you feel the ease of tranquility wash over your senses, Vada grabs some munchies, cookies, some donuts Mia bought the other day, and some potato chips.
She can’t see you. But she knows you’re staring at her, she can feel the way she senses she’s being watched. 
You’re there, staring at her, looking down at her baggy clothing, then looking back up while she puts down the snacks. Your cheeks are flushed, you hear the way the music on your phone is beginning to fade, because you’re here, staring at her. 
You think you may have taken too many hits, it’s a different kind of high. You just want to take the potato chips and grow wings. Fly away from this place and go to Italy.
Vada notices, you look spaced out, but you’re staring at her. Not as captivated as you were once before, so she nudges you and you immediately look back up at her. She’s high, she sees a glint in your mesmerizing eyes. A glint that makes her want to pull you closer.
“I feel high,” you state, you don’t notice how you sound till your speech is slurred.
“I think we’ve caught on to that,” Vada laughs, with a roll of her eyes as you snack on potato chips.
“I feel like you're prettyyy Vadss.. Pretty dope and badass,” you say, your fingers showing a peace sign and Vada busts out laughing.
“You have some nasty high that makes you use my kind of slang huh Y/N?”
You’re staring again, except the only difference now is she can tell what kind of stare it is. And this time it makes her feel weird, she can’t put her finger on it.
“Oh yeah, uh huh, yeppers,” you murmur, munching on potato chips and throwing it across the outside couch you sat on, “Can we have a cheese pizza instead with tickling my pickling pickle?..”
Flying. You feel like you’re flying, breathing out and in that smoke. Vada feels like she should be laughing but by the time she feels that she already is.
The cigarette in your hand gets twisted and her footsteps on it, cracking it.
“Think that’s enough for today Y/N, you’re not speaking from the heart.”
“Pickles?”
“No.”
“Dill.”
“No pickles!”
“Yes pickl-No!!!-okay..”
Finally, Vada drags you inside Mia’s house, carrying you to the couch and tossing you on it.
“WeeeEeeEEeEEE,” you’re acting silly. Vada has never seen this care-free, childish side in you. 
“I think you’re gonna need to sleep this high off sleeping beauty.”
“I can’t sleeeeeep.”
“Well you need to sleep,” Vada forces, authority lacing her voice. You make a grumble. 
“Okay fine,” the small cushion on the couch shifts from you moving around so much. Vada watches you in the corner of your eye, finding it a little cute the way you are right now.
She was going to buy some dill pickles while you closed your eyes, but you seemed like you couldn’t, making Vada sigh and approach you.
“Scooch,” her voice rings in your ears, rubbing your hair softly as you make a tired, grumpy sound and scoot a little, your body wrapped into a marshmallowy blanket.
She doesn’t think she would do this, but if she can make you shut up a little bit, and feel your warmth, maybe it’ll be okay. The shorter brunette feels the way you curl into her body and melt like putty. She doesn’t think much of it, what you two are sharing right now.
Vada feels fond, to let you feel safe in her arms, is something she will always cherish.
Her voice hushes you, pressing her lips to your forehead, while you murmur about pickles. The whispers begin to die down, like the ending of a symphony. She cuddles you, you nudge your nose into her chest, “Don’t go Vads..” your voice is barely heard, but she can hear it, “Stay.”
“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky,” her pinky raises up and interlocks with yours.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Now sleep angel,” her voice is teasing, but part of it she feels like you’ve grown on her, this childish side that she finds sweet.
You don’t respond, of course you don’t, because as soon as she looks down at you asleep on her chest. And by the time she can even process, Vada is asleep with you.
Mia comes home seeing you two sleep together, taking 5 photos and even having the time to take 2 polaroid pictures of you two wrapped into each other.
“Those two are going to be together soon.”
-
It’s the fourth time you’ve watched Shrek in film class. 4 damn times for 2 months.
Vada is starting to tick, you giggle at it. But she finds Shrek so iconic, she can’t bring herself to hate it. Well for now.
“I fucking feel like I can actually memorize each line by now,” she mutters, it makes you and Mia laugh even harder. 
“Why doesn’t Ms. Valentina choose the movies after that? It’s always just Shrek 1.” 
Vada doesn’t even know by now. 
The lights turn off, the only sunshine you can see is from the warmth of the sun that creeps into the blinds. The best part of having film in this period is that she always has it first on Fridays. Which means when the light switches turn off, it’s the queue where everyone pushes the desks and gets comfy, the desks stay on the side for the rest of the day.
After grunts and small clatter of water bottles falling down from people pushing the desks, everyone crawls to their spot in their own little friend group they have. 
Vada already has the couch in the back of the classroom reserved, she doesn’t give no shits, if she’ll fight for it she will. 
You find it a little funny, since you remember how people stopped trying to fight, she’s persistent. 
She pats the seat next to her and you sit next to her. Mia sits next to you. 
And for the rest of the period you three gossip, curl into each other, and chatter.
-
Once again, at the end of the school day, you, Vada, and Mia are laying together on the couch with several blankets and stuffed animals stacked on top of each other.
“Pass the popcorn please,” you nudge Mia, who’s holding the large popcorn box filled with buttery popcorn (that she kept when she ordered a jumbo sized popcorn box from the movies, that cost 10 damn dollars.) Mia passes it to Vada, which munches on a handful, then hands it to you. Of course with you ending up with some popcorn thrown into your hair.
You happy snack on the popcorn, munching and crunching. Vada and your hands dig into the bottom with the richer buttered popcorn. The brunette’s cheeks feel warm from feeling your hand. Maybe from the blanket. Maybe from the heat of the popcorn. Or maybe something else. 
Mia regrets asking Vada for a movie recommendation. As soon as she sees Vada search up ‘Sh’ on the search bar, she groans, seeing how Vada clicked Shrek. 
For the second, fucking, time, today.
As the movie begins to roll, the blonde whispers, “If I have children, I’m never gonna let them watch this. It’s been playing way more than enough and I am not risking having to play it every morning when I’m older.”
Vada snorts, “I’m going to tell your children that it’s a great movie, so great that they’ll play it morning and night.”
It goes like that for the next 30 minutes, you two are snug, with a fluffy weighted blanket draped over the three of you as the movie continues.
As the forty five minute mark surpasses, Vada is distracted in the movie. She’s seen it 4 times, yet she’s still watching it. She feels a faint pressure press against her shoulder, she brushes it off, she knows that it’s her brain signaling her to stop watching the movie.
She doesn’t.
But as the minutes pass, the pressure stays, if not stronger.
She feels curious, turning her head away from the projector to find you asleep peacefully on her shoulder. Vada’s eyes soften at the sight of your lips parted, gentle breaths blowing on her neck from your lips and the white of the blanket covering your chin. You’re asleep, and it brings her back to you two asleep on each other the other day. But this time it feels different. You two aren’t high.
You were curled up to her, with your legs tucked and faced to the edge of the couch. She’s seen you asleep before, when you were so tired one hung out that Mia lent you your room. Vada only peeked inside to see you asleep and still like a rock. You aren’t the kind to fall asleep easily, let alone snore. But Vada could hear a soft snore fall from your lips.
Vada can’t help it, but she feels a grin trying to form on her face, as you curl up to her, she tucks a hand around your waist to pull you closer. Now your hair is draped all over her shoulders, she sniffs it, nudging her nose to your hair. Your shampoo smells again like strawberries. 
Except this time it smells more intoxicating.
It smells so lightly sweet. But it makes her feel dizzy, her nose to the top of your head, relying on your scent to comfort her. 
You shift lightly, a soft murmur being made as your eyes slightly twitch, but fall asleep just as fast when she takes a strand of hair in her fingertips and curls it. 
As you're asleep and Vada is focused on you, Mia mumbles against her, quiet enough to not wake you. The TV was already loud enough, plus you were all the way in the corner.
“You like Y/N,” she says, and it wasn’t an opinion, it was a rhetorical statement.
Vada slows down with her fingers curling in your hair, turning to face Mia.
She feels a stutter get caught into her throat, “Uh, w-wait what?”
“You like Y/N,” she says again, her blue eyes looking at Vada, searching for an answer. An answer she already knew, she just needed to hear it from her.
“N-no, what? Mia, what makes you think that?”
It sounds stupid to the blonde, a small laugh coming from her, she speaks quieter so you can’t hear her, although you’re knocked off asleep.
“Well, to start off, since she stepped into our film class for the first day, you couldn’t stop staring at her Vads. And when I invited her so we could get to know her better, I’ve never seen you so quiet with someone until you met her. You’re always so open to meeting new people. At first, I thought you were nervous,” Mia laughs, finding it almost unbelievable when she says it out loud, “and never thought the Vada Cavell would be nervous to meet new people. But you look at her like the missing puzzle piece you’ve taken years to find. You look at her like she’s given you the light to your universe.”
Vada wants to roll her eyes, tell Mia how insane she is, she wants to throw her hands in the air. But she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t want to wake you up, she just wants to press her lips to your forehead and tell you that everything is okay when you wake up. 
But it all comes down at her at once. She can’t believe it herself. Well she knew she felt something. The the way she sees things now. Where she’d walk into a library filled with books and think, “Y/N would love it here.” Or when she’d smell the aroma in the air when Amelia and her mother would bake cookies together, and can’t help, but think about you. 
Mia herself has a guitar, and when there are days when you can’t make it, Vada spends two hours as her best friend talks to her to practice. So maybe one day, when she sees you pull out her guitar, she’ll say, “I can play it too.”
And when your pretty eyes already reveal the yearn you feel to hear her play, she’ll play all the songs that she’s practiced while she eagers you to cuddle up to her. Then you’ll realize they are all your favorite songs. Because Vada spent every two hours when you’re not there to practice for you. 
She hears Mia keep speaking, “You bring her up every time you can, okay? You’re reminded of her everywhere you go, and I’ve never seen you or her look at someone the way you do with each other. Remember that day you two first met? The whole car rode to seven eleven, you were staring at her staring at the window.”
“You’re falling for her day by day Vada,” Mia says, and the brunette can see the way Mia begins to smile, “You just don’t notice it until you realize how much she means to you. You used to refuse to take the extra guitar I had, but when you saw the way she played riffs, you took it and played songs that you knew one day you would want to play for her.”
Mia pauses, then speaks again, “You should’ve seen how shattered she was when you grew over protective of her and said some things that came out wrong. You didn’t see the way as soon as she left for 5th period she was going to cry. Come on, and you two fucking fell asleep with each other. It’s like I’m reading the slowest burn wattpad book in reality.”
The shorter girl is still stroking through your hair, as you’re asleep with soft snores coming out of your mouth every once in a while, still trying to process something she knew was true for a long time.
Vada doesn’t want to admit it, but she exhales a breath she didn’t know she was holding, “I don’t know. I just feel really fond of her I guess. She’s grown really special to me and I think she’s someone I never knew I needed in my life. She’s there to you know, listen. Or be open to whatever..” Vada plays with the string of her oversized shorts while letting you nuzzle to her neck. “I guess she’s more important to me than I thought.”
Mia silently squeals, nudging Vada’s shoulder, “You can’t not convince me she likes you too, okay? Now you better fucking confess or I’m going to do a backflip and crack your neck open.”
-
Vada hasn’t felt nervous since she met you, but today she was nervous nervous. She bought sky blue, pink, ivory, and sweet apple tulips. 
It feels so cheesy, but she’s fucking here for it.
She prepares a basket with everything she knows about you, lego flowers, a cow stuffy with some random coquette bow attached to it, (that she may have not asked your older brother what animal you liked.) As soon as she shopped, the cute little cow with the laced bow wrapped around it was calling for her.
She fills the basket with kisses, tears off the most beautiful, raw pieces of poetry, she read and thought of you. She tears the extra copies of the songs she played on the guitar because of you, and adds it as scraps. 
And of course, she adds small fairy lights, then attaches all the photos she has with you. She has never been more thankful for Mia always taking 2 polaroids whenever you take one together, so she can keep one and add it to her memory book.
She’s anxious, picking at her fingers, it’s like when she first experienced the shooting. Except this is a hundred times worse.
Mia drops her off Saturday morning, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “The worst she can say is no,” and by the way Vada clenches the basket she has for you, Mia quickly adds, “Which is a .00001% chance. Trust me, I’m sure she’ll say yes.”
Vada rolls her eyes, clearly not helping easing her anxiety as she closes the door and approaches your door, knocking softly.
When it’s open, she’s greeted with the sight of a newly awoken you, looking sleepy, but she thinks it makes you even cuter.
You’re wearing the plaid pants she lent you, she remembers you couldn’t stop wearing it because it was so comfy. She let you have her extra fourth pair. She found it funny whenever she saw you waddling around in her oversized clothes.
“Mhh..” You keep rubbing your eyes, a yawn escaping out of you, “Vads it’s 8AM on a Saturday morning, what’s going o-” you finally open your eyes to have a nervous fidgety Vada with tulips, some Valentine's day throwup basket and a heart shaped balloon.
Vada takes a deep breath before pushing the tulips towards your way, “Okay, Y/N, I don’t know what to say. But I wanted to tell you for a while now. I notice the way I bring you up everyday, or how long my gaze lingers when you’re in the same room as me. Or how I find a way to bring our friendship up every second I can. I’ve grown the motivation to do the hobbies I’ve seen you once do. And.. I’m not the person to.. Get nervous when I meet people for the first time. But, you’ve been someone who I feel protective over, and you’re special to me in a way where you’re someone I didn’t ever think I needed in my life. But meeting you has really made you be the highlight of my day. I didn’t think it was possible to feel butterflies, let alone these fluttering sparks when you’re near. Or to realize the feelings I felt when Liam gave you flowers and wanted to ask you out was jealousy. It just feels right to have you with me, here. You’ve really distracted me from all the things I’ve found stressful, and no one has ever been able to do that. I didn’t even think it was possible. I-I don’t even know how, but it was like some invisible string tied us when I met you, but I’m so thankful you’re in my life. And it’s so weird to say this now..” 
Vada pauses, catching her breath and trying not to make eye contact with you, but she can see your cheeks getting rosy. Your hands are full with her flowers. You certainly don’t look awkward like you once did with Liam. More like, overly shy now. You’re blushing. And this time your hands don’t feel clammy. This time, you’re so desperate to feel her hands on your waist and have your hands tucked around her to hug her.
Vada gulps and blurts out almost too quickly to comprehend, “But I like you. Will you go out for dinner with me this Friday night? I get if you don’t feel the same, and I just want you to know I don’t want our friendship to be ruined at all but-”
“Vada, I’d love to go out with you.” You interrupt, wanting her to shut up and kiss you. To do all the sweet things you thought of when you smoked with her, to fly with her and carry her home.
“R-really? You’re not just saying that?”
“No. I think.. I don’t know, I think we’ve grown really really close, in a way where I never had someone that I could rely on so much. I really didn’t think meeting you could, you know, make my day a hundred times better, and I always felt confused with my feelings, you know? In a way where I feel like friends shouldn’t feel the sweet way I think about you?”
“Yeah..” Vada murmurs, “Yeah,” she says, more understanding.
She turns to you, you look like spring. The season, with your hands filled with flowers, your hair perfectly ruffled and your hair curling in your ends. Vada speaks again, “Do you want to give us a try? You know, I just don’t ever want us to not be friends one day because we didn’t work out.”
“Please,” you whisper, and when you say that she immediately pulls you in for a hug. 
This hug is just as comforting as all the other ones she’s given you in the past. But now, the thought of this hug being something more isn’t there anymore. Because it is something more. It makes you bury your nose into her chest.
Mia smiles in the distance, snapping a photo of you two hugging, “Those two love birds, I called it.”
-
Friday night
Here you are, in a black dress you remember you fell in love with when you went shopping. It was a simple dress where your shoulders were exposed, a laced neck and you put on some hoops. 
The dress was not too short, but it stopped a little before your knees. 
And of course, a string tying the prettiest bow on the back of your waist, you didn’t want to admit it, but you felt pretty when you looked at the mirror. 
Your mother dropped you off outside of the restaurant Vada reserved. 
She kisses your cheek goodbye, winking for good luck as you wave and watch her go. Now you kind of regret not bringing a jacket. You should’ve brought the leather one you were thinking about at the last minute, and decided not to.
Your headphones are plugged in, you’re 15 minutes early, and as the minutes tick, you feel colder from the sun beginning to set.
Cologne by beabadoobee is playing, you ruffle your curled hair, till you feel the music abruptly stop and your headphones being wrapped around your neck.
You can hear Vada’s voice, ruffling your hair, “Hi,” she says, not more awkward than you feel right now. You feel her gaze linger on your figure, and suddenly you feel hot, the cold you felt 5 minutes ago was completely gone. 
She rubs your shoulders, and you can tell what you’re wearing just made her fall much more for you.
What she’s wearing is not Vada. Not her basketball shorts and oversized tees. This is Vada, in all black with the lightest makeup, you can still see the freckles you love. Her hair is half up half down, and you brush her bangs to the side.
“Vads,” you breathe, and the way you call her that makes her heart pound ferociously, “You look pretty.”
“I tried my best, how do I look, silly pretty girl?” Vada twirls her dress, making you laugh.
“Like something Vada would never wear, but I love it.”
“You’re the one to talk, all soft and shy girl wearing something that I would definitely not stop staring at this whole evening. It’s perfect. You’re perfect, come on Y/N,” she tugs your wrist slightly, noticing how your wrists are decorated with the bracelets you two made together in the past. It makes her smile while she points at it, “Good decoration choice.”
“Only for the best.”
As you two enter the restaurant, you reach for Vada’s hand, she can see the way you’re searching for her. Like a puppy whining for its mother. She drifts her hand towards you and interlaces it with yours.
The place is dimly lit. The only light is from the sunsetty view and the fairy lights that are hung. 
It’s romantic.
And you feel all blushy, like some teenage girl in a friends to lovers book.
Vada feels the way you grasp onto her hands, your fingertips squeezing, she can already tell you’re nervous, she calms you down with a circle with her thumb on the back of your palm. 
You two sit next to each other, looking at the menu.
It’s getting a little cold, and you shift, “Okay, not to ruin the mood, but I have no clue what in the hell I should get,” Vada laughs, the Y/N humor she knew was clearly showing.
“What about we share some alfredo and their bread? Their bread is so filling and to die for.”
You nod, to go with the flow, “Okay Vads, whatever you think is good must be yummy.”
You two order and spend the time talking, by the next 15 minutes of waiting, you’re cuddled into her, playing with her hair.
“Hey, you’re messing my hair up silly.”
“I like playing with it. It’s very smooth!”
Vada presses her lips to your temple, rubbing your cheeks to make your blush more apparent.
“Stop that.”
“Well I think it’s cute when your face is all pink.”
You make a quiet whine, Vada still smells your toasted marshmallow and strawberry scent. The scent she could never get tired of. The intoxicating sweetness.
A few moments later with cuddles and talks, your food arrives and you share the noodles, digging in. Vada drapes your hair back so it won't fall into the sauce. As you eat and munch, Vada twirls the noodles on her fork and brings it to your lips, looking into your eyes. You look back up at her, feeling tiny as you open your mouth and she feeds you. You feed her back, letting her rub the small speck of sauce on your cheek with her thumb.
“Stop being so shy,” Vada whispers, nudging your nose to hers.
“I’m just nervous, I’ve never done this before,” you whisper back.
“Well, it’s just me, nothings gonna change, I swear, maybe I’ll throw more pillows during pillow fights though,” she jokes, and that makes you nuzzle your nose more to hers.
You press your lips to her cheek and continue snacking on bread rolls and dessert.
-
“The stars are really bright today,” you say, your hand in Vadas as you two are staring at the scene above you, the sunset long gone and replaced with the light from the moon.
“Wellll, I think that just means that we’re amazing for each other, huh?”
“Maybe.”
“Nope, it’s a yes.”
“Yep.”
The heat you felt when you first saw Vada when your date began was gone, you were cold. No doubt did the girl not notice, seeing your slightly trembling figure. She drapes her leather jacket over you as you make a small noise of appreciation, sniffling your nose. The jacket immediately warms you up, you pull it to your shoulders more.
Her soft eyes look down at you, and she sees the way the stars reflect off your eyes, those eyes. She feels lucky to be able to be greeted by them every single day you’re around.
“Thank you for today,” you finally breathe, and Vada boops your nose.
“Well thank you for always being sweet and silly. I wouldn’t trade this moment for anyone else.”
You boop her nose back, sharing a slurpee that of course you got from seven eleven. It brings her deja vu. To remember how you first politely refused on buying a slurpee when you first met Vada. Then beginning to use the trick she taught you to poke your finger under the dispenser and lick your finger. Then buying your own small slurpee. Then to share it with one straw. 
As you two reach her house, she twirls you on the porch and lifts you up, making you squeal and giggle. It’s quiet, comfortable silence as she looks down at your lips. And she knows you want her too. Your legs wrap around her, and you lean and press your lips to hers. 
She feels sparks and a flock of butterflies stirring in your stomach when you’re around, but as she feels your soft, warmth of your lips on hers, she feels fireworks. Electricity shocking her whole body. She hears you make a soft moan of longing, something you wanted for so long. She wanted you for so long too. Her lips press against yours more, feeling your desperateness as she leans more pressure onto you. You taste like sweet strawberries, indulging on the way you make a noise of wanting more more more of her lips as her tongue runs over your bottom lip.
You both pull away, panting, cheeks flushed, your body feels like it’s flaming into oblivion, she grabs your waist tightly, then a small smile forms on both of your faces.
“I’m pretty sure you kiss during like.. Your fourth date.”
“Oh,” Vada says, faking to look sad before cracking up a grin, “Oh well, we’re too in love with each other and we broke that! Too bad, so sad.”
You giggle as she twirls you around and brings you into her room, kissing your neck along the way, she tosses you into the bed and you squeal, kicking your legs as she crawls next to you.
“Come here,” she whispers, you scoot closer to embrace and she wraps her arms around you, switching the fireplace on and playing some music in the background.
She spoons you, but you turn your front to be pressed to her chest, feeling her kisses on your neck and her fingers ghosting along your jawline.
“Pretty girl,” she coos, seeing the way you were a little tired, “Sleepy?”
“Yes.”
You bury your nose into her, her sweet, musky, coconut scent comforts you. The way your scent mixes and it just smells so… Your eyes are fluttering before you can come up with a thought. You stir in Vada’s arms, feeling her arms wrapped around your waist and your limbs tangled together.
“Don’t let go, stay,” you whisper, like you once did before in the past.
“I won’t, pinky promise, I’ll be here baby. Go to sleep, okay?”
You both begin to fall asleep, with polaroids hanging off you wrapped around vines around Vada’s bed. There was one with you two holding slushies and showing off your purple tongues, another one with you two in a group photo, one that Vada loved the most, where you two were cuddling. 
miaa: you owee meee omg u guys r adorable, update me tmmrw vads
Your pinkies interlock and your cuddle up to her. She can see the way your eyes twitch from closing. She knows you’re asleep when she hears your breathing begin to even out. And she definitely knows she’s your comfort, because a soft snore slips out of you no longer than 5 minutes later.
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minus-plus-zer0 · 3 months ago
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okay hear me out. bakugo x reader but the reader’s entire family just died in a villain accident and they go mia and don’t talk to anyone for a month?? and bakugo sees them on a bus/crossing the street/at a cafe or smth like that
I hope I interpreted this correctly, I wrote the reader as if they had left for a month entirely, rather than being physically present but mentally/socially withdrawn for a month. Anyways, thank you for requesting!
Disappearance of You
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♡ Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader
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The news cycle had since forgotten what happened, but Bakugou didn't.
That villain triggered the rest of these events to go into motion. After your entire family died, you disappeared. You didn't even text Bakugou, your one and only best friend. Your friends were worried sick, but nobody worried more than Bakugou.
After spending every single day with you, Bakugou couldn't suddenly go without contact. In fact, he was afraid he'd never see you again. Even if this incident changed you, even if you weren't the same, he needed to see you. Bakugou didn't let many people into his life, so when he had someone he cared about, he didn't easily let go.
Without any friends or family knowing where you were, you were hard to find. But Bakugou knew you better than he knew himself, and he was determined that he would finally you eventually.
Around a month later, the game of hide and seek ended. Bakugou spotted you in the city. It was like witnessing the dead come back to life. He had seen you cross a street wading through the crowd, your appearance and your body language unmistakable. Bakugou sprinted over to you, shoving people past as he yelled out your name.
You glanced back once, but he didn't catch your expression. You sprinted down a deserted alleyway but Bakugou tackled you and caught you on the ground.
"Shit, are you okay? Speak to me, dammit!"
You were not in a good condition, and Bakugou hoped that none of your current health issues were due to him tackling you just now. You looked like you hadn't been eating properly, and he was sad to see that you weren't at all happy to see him.
He pulled you up into a sitting position to hug you dearly. You almost didn't feel real to him. But he needed you back in his arms again, to let his brain know he had finally, finally found you.
At some point your arms curled around his neck, right where they belonged. You felt Bakugou's tears against your neck and you pulled out of the hug to wipe them off his face.
"Don't cry," you said, quietly.
"Don't tell me what to do!" he said, voice shaking. "Where the fuck were you? People thought you were dead! You don't get to just bail on me like that. I don't have anybody else like you. You're my best fucking friend. You're my other half. You don't get to just leave..."
These were the kinds of things Bakugou had kept inside him since you left, since even before you left when he couldn't admit to you how he felt in fear of ruining your friendship. These were the kind of things he couldn't admit to anybody else.
"I just couldn't stick around," you said. "I couldn't be reminded of what happened... but the reminders were everywhere."
"You should've told me." Bakugou's burying his face in your neck again, his sobs now muffled.
After spending enough time holding you, Bakugou finally let go but not without locking your hand in his, if only to make sure you wouldn't abandon him ever again. He didn't know what he would do if he never got to tell you he loved you to your face, and now with you back by his side he's got the chance to do it properly, rather than to a missing person poster... or a grave.
Bakugou texted his mother that he had found you. She pretty much considered you a daughter-in-law already, having seen you countless times with Bakugou everywhere in his life. She was basically awaiting for your marriage plans to be officially announced (you weren't even dating... yet). And although Bakugou didn't always get along with her, he knew that his mom and dad could take good care of you in the meantime while you got back on your feet.
Even if you didn't have a family anymore, Bakugou would just take you back home to his.
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hannamoon143 · 19 days ago
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Hi, I'm here to make a request because i desperatey seek some comfort lately and since we are moots and i like your writing i thought i ask but feel free to ignore it. 😊
So I thought about the reader having a toxic family and because of that a very low self-esteem and the member (I would prefer Chan or Felix but honestly you can pick whoever you want) finds her crying because of her family and comforts her. And then she is like "Why are you even dating me?" and the member tells her how how much he loves her and how beautiful and kinde, etc. she is.
It's up to you how toxic you want her family to be. please only write what you feel comfortable with.
I just have some trouble with my own family lately. I hope you are better and remember to stay hydrated! 💕
Family...Family?
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chan x fem. reader
genre: angst, hurt/comfort
warnings: toxic family, slight cursing, slight injury (just scratches), crying, anxiety
word count: 2,3k
a/n: hey <33 thank you for the request, and i hope it brings you some comfort. sorry that it took so long! and thank u for the kind words. i hope ur family situation is okay, feel free to talk to me. take care and now enjoy<333
not proofread!
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You sat on the cold floor, your back facing the wall. Altough you tried your best not to break down, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears ran down your face, followed with pained sobs. You pulled your knees up to your chin, and wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt for comfort. It didn’t help.
What brought this break down was nothing really new for you. Your family making fun of you, and yelling hurtful words at you was something you always knew. But this time, it was just too much.
When your mother called you just before, you didn’t even want to pick up, but she was your mother right? And she sounded nice and warmhearted at the beginning. You almost didn’t want to believe it. And unfortunately you were right with not believing that forced sweet voice. After the small talk, she got to the point immediately.
Your own mother had the audicity to beg for money from your boyfriend. And she didn’t even have a good reason. It was so your brothers girlfriend wouldn’t leave him. As stupid as it sounded that’s what it was. Your brother was younger than you, and you always tried to think positively, that maybe you were just being unfair, but deep down you exactly knew that he always got better things than you. He went to a expensive private school, and you on a normal one. He got the newest i-phones, headphones and gaming tools, and you had only the old phone from him. He one time destroyed it with purpose, and what did your parents say? They were sure it was an accident and you sure were old enough to pay for your own phone. And the worst was he wasn’t even thankful.
And you don't even want to think about grades. He didn't care at all about school, having the worst grades ever. You? If you got two points less in a test, your parents would call you a failure, and then give you the silent treatment for days. You were just glad you finished school, and didn't have to share anything about university with them.
When you asked your mother for money one time, when you couldn’t afford a bus ticket, such a simple thing, she didn’t give it to you. Saying that you had healthy legs, and your family needed money for more important things. It was always like that.
So now your brother had the fakest girlfriend ever. She always smiled around your parents, and that was everything she needed to do so they would like her. She always begged your brother to buy her things, and he never hesitated to do so. But no, he didn‘t even take his own money. It was your parents‘. It was unbelievable noone saw what big of a gold digger she was. But when you moved out, you stopped trying to tell them that things were unfair, you stopped letting them treat you as if you were just a problem, that they had to tolerate.
And now your mom really had the audicity to want to take advantage of chans career and money. You could almost laugh. She always despised chan, telling you that he was not the one, and that she was sure that he was a cheater and someone that would leave you when he saw the next best girl. That was so rich coming from a woman, that cheated on her husband on a monthly base.
And coming back to the call, of course you said no. And after you said this one word, the bittersweet tone immediately dropped. She said something about what a bad family member you were, not caring for your family, when you had so much money, and your family needed it. When you still said no, she started yelling at you. You hated when she yelled. And when you couldn’t stand it anymore, you told her what of a shitty mother she has always been, and that she was the unfair one. That your whole family was just toxic, and that nothing was okay like this. That it always was like this. And maybe you should have hung up the call then. For a moment it was just silence. Then she let out a bitter,faked sob, before she literally screamed:
„You think we were unfair to you? You always had enough to eat, and a roof over your head. We never were unfair. Your brother is young, and he deserves to have love, so why won’t you help him? You are such a spoiled, little ungrateful brat y/n! I wish i never had you. Your father is stressed out because of your little manners, and your brother has to suffer because of you. And if i would ask you for money for food? I bet you wouldn’t even give us that! But okay, continue being the biggest bad decision of my life, with your spoiled, stupid singer boyfriend. And when he leaves your bitchy ass don’t come and beg for our forgiveness. Have a shitty life y/n, we won’t have contact anymore.Oh and just so you know, if you think you could ever be good enough for someone, you are living a lie.“
Then she hung up. Just like this. You always tried to convince yourself, that she had just a bad day, when she was like this. That it was hard to be a mother and a wife. But now you saw it clear. She wasn’t just like this because it was her weird way of caring or something. She just simply despised you. Probably she wouldn’t if you were a boy.
But then her words. Was she right? You were always envious of your brother, and all the things he got, also if you didn’t care as much anymore as you got older. But maybe you were ungratefull. What if chan thought the same and just didn’t leave you because he felt pity for you? Were you a brat without even really knowing it?
You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, as your tears got only more, and your thoughts continued spiraling. Maybe you should beg her for forgiveness, like you always did. You shouldn’t have yelled at her like this, she was your mother and she was right, she always gave you to eat and a roof over the head. So you were being unfair maybe…
Then slowly, another thought crept up in your mind. Her life would be easier without you. And your brothers and fathers too. Maybe chans and all your friends too. Were you really just a burden? It had to be like this, when the person you knew your whole life said that…right?
You didn’t notice how loud you were sobbing, and how hard you were digging your fingers into your head, tangled in your hair, as if you wanted to just rip the thoughts out of your head. Then the front door of your shared apartment opened. But between your loud thoughts, the sobbing and the slight ringing in your ears you didn’t hear it.
Chan’s day was exhausting, and he was just looking forward to snuggle up on the couch with you. When he got in the apartment he wanted to say that he was home, but a noise immediately caught his attention. Sobs, pained and muffled. His eyes grew wide. Did something happen? He quickly kicked his shoes off and dropped his bag to the floor, and then ran into your shared bedroom. His heart broke when he saw you sitting curled up on the floor, sobbing hard, hands tangled in your hair. He quickly ran over to you, crouching down next to you. „Y/nnie, oh my god is everything alright, are you hurt?“ he spoke with a desperate, concerned voice.
You only noticed his presence now, but you didn’t dare to look up, the words from your mother present in your mind.
Chan got only more scared when you just didn’t look up, and instead gripped your hair tighter. He gently but firmly grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands out your hair. You tried to fight him off, and you started screaming between sobs.
„Let me go, i don’t care, please, i’m not worth it.“
Chan had no idea what you meant. You just tried to scratch him with your nails so he would let go. What was going on? He never ever saw you like this. This wasn’t you. But for sure he wouldn’t let go and let you hurt yourself.
„Y/n, stop scratching me, and i’m for sure not letting go. Just try to calm down, and tell me what is going on right now.“ His voice was stern but unbelievable soft. You still fought him, your nails leaving bright red scratches on his wrists, sobbing violently. Why wasn’t he letting go when you were clearly hurting him? Why wasn’t he getting mad and yelling at you? Why wasn’t he just giving up on you like everyone else when you were like this?
But then he suddenly started gently stroking your head, with one hand, your wrists in his other one. The motion was soft and definitely not violent or madly. You stopped scratching him, and screaming your own horrible thoughts in chans face. You just looked at him now, tears streaming down your face, sobs getting quiet.
He gently smiled.
„See? Everythings alright, no reason to hurt or scream at me my love.“ He slowly released your wrists, continuing brushing over your hair soothingly.
You were confused. How was he smiling in this situation. How could he still touch you so lovingly when you just screamed in his face and hurt him? When you looked at his wrists you felt guilty.
Chan saw your body slump as you calmed down, now only silent tears rolling over your cheeks anymore.
He just looked at you, giving you time to calm down. He then slowly wrapped his arms around you, stroking your back.  Your tears were falling onto his hoodie, and you didn’t even really register when he lifted you up the floor, carrying you to the bed. He gently laid you down, and sat down next to you. He waited a bit before he spoke up again.
„Love, i need you to talk to me a bit now okay? I need to know what happened that got you feeling and acting like this, so i can help and comfort you alright? I know this wasn’t you, and i know there has to be a reason why you were breaking down like this. Just know you can tell me everything. Don’t pretend with me love.“
You sat up against the wall a bit, sniffling.
„I’m sorry i hurt you, i don’t know what got into me.“ You mumble, looking at your own hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
„I know you are sorry. It’s alright, it doesn’t hurt, it only hurted to see you like this.“
He waits for you to talk again, patiently looking at you.
„It was my mother. She called.“
His eyes softened. He knew that your relationship with your family wasn’t the best, and they weren’t that kind to you.
Then you told him everything, every word your mother said and all your thoughts to it. Your last sentence  hurt him deeper than anything else.
„…How can you even be with someone like me? I’m messed up and ungrateful and just a burden-„
He took your hands in his, looking you in the eyes.
„Y/n L/n, if you ever talk about yourself like this again i will have to worry you actually lost your mind. What your mother said, was horrible. And i want you to understand that all of that is not true. You’ve never been a burden to me, and you never could be. And did you just say you believe your not thankful enough? You y/n? The person who gets excited over the smallest things, the person who was so sweet and grateful when i forgot our anniversary and only gifted you a flower? You never wanted me for my money y/n, and you know that, and i know it too. That was always a big fear of mine, that people would only want me for money, my job and stuff. But you proved me wrong. You always loved me for me. If even, i should be happy you even want to be with me. You are the kindest, funniest and best person i know. And no matter what happens, i will always stay with you, as long as you want it. And i’ll make sure these people will never hurt you again. And you know what? I can be your family. I will always love and support you. And if you fall? Then i’m falling with you. And then we get up again, with the help of each other. Exactly like a family should.“
Tears welled up in your eyes again. But this time they weren’t from sadness and the feeling of not being good enough.
„I can’t tell you how much your words mean to me channie.“ You said, a little smile creeping to your face.
He smiled too and wrapped  his arms around you from the side again, putting his head on your shoulder.  
„That’s the smile i love.“
You wrapped your arms around him too, nuzzling your face into his hair.
„I love my new family.“ you murmured.
„How about we make it official?“ he lifts his head, so he can look into your eyes.
„What do you mean?“ You hold your breath, as you let his words sink in.
„Marry me y/n. I promise to be there for you, no matter what comes.“
For a moment it felt like the whole world stayed still. Did this wonderful man really want to be with you for the rest of his life?
Then a big joyful smile spread across your face, the tear streaks from before seemed as if they were years ago now. The joy literally radiated from you now.
„Yes, channie. Yes i’d love to be your wife.“
taglist: @0omillo0 @lina-linny @darqlys
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