#can’t really explain why i like this look. other than his hair because… obviously
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louferrignojrofficial · 2 months ago
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LOU FERRIGNO JR. as TRENT FOX RESISTING ROOTS (2022)
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sluttsumu · 3 months ago
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❝ HEADS OR TAILS ? ❞
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ೃ࿐ feat. various chars (hq, bllk, bleach, jjk)
in which certain animanga men like to give or receive.
contains: 18+, oral sex (f! + m! receiving and giving), face fucking, face sitting, hair pulling, dacryphillia, degradation.
ೃ࿐ ki’s note: something small to start posting again!
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𝜗𝜚 — givers: miya twins, iwaizumi hajime, rin itoshi, ichigo kurosaki, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, are you guys gonna kill me if i say todo
he loves making a mess out of you when he eats you out. watching you squirm while he pulls you onto his face is his favourite past time.
he likes to keep it casual, like it’s nothing — meanwhile he knows how flustered it’s gets you watching him devour in between your legs while you tell him about your day at work.
“it’s so aggravating!” you whine grabbing hold of the headboard to steady yourself.
though it sounds like you’re talking to yourself, you’re really talking to the man whose face you’re currently sitting on.
“like seriously, fuck— why do i have to pick up h-his paperwork because he doesn’t want to do it!”
this was hard, like really hard — almost like his dick in his boxers hard. focusing on explaining while focusing on how good he’s making you feel, your head is getting even more fuzzy just thinking about it.
“—baby” you let out an airy laugh, “ ‘m gonna cum, can’t do this”
you can’t even register how fucking pretty you sound telling him this little story of yours. you were genuinely trying to get your point across but this little whining spree was just turning him on.
“mmm,” his lips vibrate against you. “maybe he likes you…” even through his mumbling you could hear him, he smirks - tracing circles using the tip of his tongue on your clit.
“b-babe! why would you even say that!” he replaced his tongue for his thumb, repeatedly rubbing your clit back and forth. he could see it, you’re so fucking close, the tears in your eyes meanwhile he’s playing with your pussy on his chest gave you away.
“because it’s hot princess, and you look so hot about to cum on my face.”
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𝜗𝜚 — receivers: sae itoshi is obviously here, geto suguru, suna rintarō, shidou ryusei (duh), abarai renji (DUH), and hot take: nanami kento.
he’s is rough face fucker, there’s no way to sugarcoat it. he doesn’t mean to be so rough all the time but he’s needy, and sooo desperate to cum down your throat.
he finds himself questioning himself when he dwells on the sight of you that he loves — which is you absolutely ruined. hair messy, tears streaming, mascara running, spit everywhere, with you, mouth wide slobbering on his cock. it’s quite kinky he finds, but he likes what he likes.
“naughty girl,” his voice shy above a whisper while he tugs at your hair. “you love this *huff* don’t you?”
you respond with something resembling a cry while his tip prods at your uvula.
it’s so lewd, the way your spit begins to pool at your knees while he grabs two fistfuls of that pretty hair of yours. he can’t help it, you feel too good, and as of lately you’ve had quite the mouth on you.
he finds it’s time to punish you for that.
his hips don’t falter, watching tears prod at your lash line — it only encourages him to keep going, given that he’s gonna cum at any minute.
“i know this is what you wanted—” he sighs, rearranging his grip.
he takes that meek muffle you emit around his girth as an answer, one he did not ask for.
“all that fucking mouth on you, think we’ve found a better use,” he chuckles, looking down on you as his hand facets itself to the back of your head, holding every inch of him down your throat. “dont’cha think?”
this will always be the ultimate stress relief for him and he wouldn’t have it any other way than releasing thick white ropes in your mouth at the end of a long day, week, or even month.
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© SLUTTSUMU 2024
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months ago
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Steve arriving at a hotel for a work conference for his dad’s company. He hates it there, he’s miserable, he’s constantly trying to figure out what he actually wants to do with his life.
It’s late when he gets there and the hotel is fully booked because of a concert happening.
He gets his key card after waiting for 30 minutes to check in.
He opens the hotel room door to find it is already occupied by a guy with a whole lot of tattoos all over his very naked and still dripping from a shower body.
Obviously he panics a bit and wonders how the hell this could’ve happened and Eddie panics a little because of safety (turns out he’s the singer of the band performing the following night!)
They try to call the front desk but the line is busy and Steve already dreads having to go back and wait in the line downstairs.
Eddie offers to let him just stay and they’ll fix it in the morning.
“Plenty of room in a king for both of us.”
Which may be true, but Steve is an octopus when he shares a bed and he knows he will end up in Eddie’s space. Should he warn him? Probably. Does he? Absolutely not.
Steve rushes through a shower and hops into bed, making small talk with Eddie about his life in a band, ignores questions about what he does as much as he can because he doesn’t feel like explaining he’s just a puppet for his dad’s never ending business career.
He falls asleep listening to Eddie’s soft, deep tone.
And of course when he wakes up, he’s got his legs and arms wrapped around Eddie anywhere he can reach. His drool is drying on Eddie’s chest and he’s coming to terms with the fact that his dick was definitely pressed against Eddie’s thigh.
Eddie’s kind enough not to say anything about it, just squeezes Steve’s arm and continues petting his hair.
It’s nice, too nice.
Steve has to get up. He’s got things to do today and if he’s late, his dad will hear about it and berate him for hours.
Shit, even if he’s on time he’ll probably find some other reason to berate him for hours.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked.
“Hm? Oh. Just don’t really wanna get up.”
“Then don’t. I don’t have anywhere to be until soundcheck after lunch.”
And now Steve has no choice but to explain his job and why he’s here, how his dad is relying on him to network and find potential mergers. How he hates putting on the Harrington face to please everyone.
It’s easy to admit it to Eddie, especially with Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, holding him like he could actually protect him from anything his father tries to say to hurt him.
“You don’t like your job.”
It’s not a question.
“Does anyone really like their job?”
“I do.”
“Well, you’re a rockstar. Of course you do. But I can’t be a rockstar.”
“Maybe not. But what is your rockstar?”
Steve had never been asked that, not even by guidance counselors in high school. They all knew he’d work for his father. He got a business degree for his father. He owned more suits than sweatpants for his father.
“I…don’t know.”
“Maybe you could try figuring it out.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“No, it’s not. But you could still try.”
So Steve sent a message to his dad’s partner, let him know he was fighting food poisoning from the in-flight meal and couldn’t make it to the conference today. He watched as Eddie threw on some clothes, mussed up his hair instead of brushed it, and quickly shoved his things into his bag.
“I should get out of your hair, try to get the room thing fixed.”
Eddie looked at him, looked at the alarm clock by the bed, down at Steve’s bag.
“How many days are you packed for?”
“Uh, four, technically. Trip was supposed to be three, but I always have an extra in case there’s flight delays or-“
“Come with me.”
“To…soundcheck?”
“On tour.”
Steve was an idiot, his father made sure he knew it as often as possible. But he couldn’t just go on tour with a stranger.
Could he?
What was he really doing here?
He hated his job, hated his dad, hated not having a clear path in front of him.
And this certainly wasn’t a clear path; He barely knew this guy, and hadn’t even heard his band. But it was a trail, the start of a path that could lead him somewhere he’d actually like to be.
Maybe he could take this chance.
Robin would tell him to do it, if she weren’t in Antarctica studying penguins for three months, only able to call once a week to check in.
What would she say if she called him and he was backstage at a heavy metal concert?
She’d probably say he’s lost his damn mind, but she’d be glad he did.
“Well, I am a rockstar. I could afford to have you around.”
“I’m not sure I could really afford to when my dad fires me,” Steve sighed, reality hitting him a little too quickly.
“I’m not really willing to be, like, your kept boy or anything,” Steve felt himself flush.
“I’m not really willing to have a kept boy,” Eddie smirked, joining him on the bed again, legs crossed in front of him. “But I’d definitely be happy to have someone who can help our tour manager out. You’d be working, though the jobs kind of boring.”
“More boring than sitting in an office five days a week and meeting with old white dudes who haven’t done anything but work their lives away for 40+ years?”
“Nah, way better than that. Sometimes you’ll have to deal with Gareth’s moods, but I promise to make it worth your while.”
“How’s that?”
“I’ll leave that up to you,” Eddie very obviously checked him, eyes trailing over Steve’s bare chest. “I’m open to negotiating.”
“And if I want a kiss?”
“Then a kiss you’ll have.”
“And if I want you to fuck me?”
“Then you’ll have to sign some paperwork,” Eddie laughed. “But that can be arranged too.”
So Steve left with Eddie, four days of clothes in his bag, no idea what he’d even tell his dad or anyone else, and no clue exactly what his new job would entail.
All he knew was Eddie seemed to be made just for him, chaos and hyperactivity included, and Steve wasn’t gonna give that up now. Even if it made no sense, even if it was ridiculous to gain a new job and new rockstar boyfriend in less than 24 hours, even if his next call with Robin was a combination of her yelling about his impulsive behaviors and congratulations for finally doing something for him.
Even if he was more of a VIP groupie for the band than an employee of the tour manager.
Steve finally found something he wanted.
If he sent his dad’s calls to voicemail, that was because he was too busy walking his new path.
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kafka-ish · 5 months ago
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I want to be Art’s dealer when he needs an eighth after one of his games. I want him to get my number from Patrick because he’s new to this & doesn’t know anyone or anywhere else to get it. Hey, u got any weed? He texts him.
Not on me.
Shit.
I know I’ve been going crazy
Do u know anyone?
The next message is your number. No name. No address. Nothing. But Art’s desperate for a cool down that doesn’t include a tub of ice or a communal sauna. He’s going out on a limb here—hitting send as soon as Patrick relays the message. Nothing too suspicious. You’re at home when you receive a text from an unknown sender.
Maybe Art: Hey, Patrick gave me ur number. This is Art
Come by around 9
You tell him which dorm.
Maybe Art: Okay
He’s at your door at nine sharp, still in his tennis uniform. He’s sweaty from practice, nervously gripping his racket bag and wondering if he should knock or text. Obviously he’s never done this.
He knocks. Doesn’t expect to be met with a girl half his size on the other side. Maybe you’re just the dude’s girlfriend and you happen to be over and end up answering. And in that case he really shouldn’t be looking but he can’t help it. Your hair is wet like you just got done showering. Your shorts ride up, or maybe he’s just imagining things. But he’s not imagining your shirt that’s see-through and barely covers your abdomen. He introduces himself, “Hi, I’m Art.” Maybe that’ll clear up the confusion.
“Yeah you texted me earlier. Come on in.” You leave the door open. You also leave Art dumbfounded.
Art makes sure to shut the door behind him but he doesn’t sit down. Stands awkwardly by the entrance, wondering what he should do with his bag, thumbing the strap.
“So Patrick sent you, huh?” Your voice comes from the kitchen and Art nods even though you can’t see him. He realizes this and dumbly says yes. You look up from the counter, sandwich bag in hand, and you smile at Art who’s fiddling his thumbs by the doorway. “You can sit down. Make yourself at home.”
"Cool." He settles down on your couch, looking around the place, trying not to be obvious even though it is. You smile, wanting to relax him. That's what he's here for, isn't it? His tennis bag is at his feet and he rests his hands on his knees, trying to take up as little space as possible.
"I won't bite, you know," you say, sitting next to him. You place a scale on the coffee table next to a tray of weed that's already been ground. About an ounce, though Art's never seen that much weed at one time. The only time he smokes is with Patrick every once in a while.
"Yeah, I know. I just--"
"What? Is this your first time or something?"
"No! I--I mean. Buying yes." His cheeks are red.
"Okay well don't worry. It's real easy." Art nods. Believes this. "Well."
"Well what?"
"Now I know why Patrick sent you to me."
"Sometimes it's easy." You laugh. Like an inside joke you have but only with yourself. "Sorry I shouldn't have said that."
"No it's fine." And Art gives you this look. Like it is fine. Keep going. Explain everything to me. He wants to know the basics, the hard stuff and everything in between. You just shake your head. Ask how much he needs. "How much do people usually get?"
"Depends on the person." You shrug.
"How much does Patrick get?"
"Like an ounce. Half if he's short on cash." Art raises his eyebrow, shocked he didn't know that about his friend.
"So I should get an ounce," Art says. More of a question than a statement. He's testing the waters. Putting himself out there.
"How much do you smoke?" You push back. You want him to be careful. You also can't risk putting a super hot new customer in danger.
"Honestly? Only with Patrick." He's bashful when he admits this. You probably think he's lame now and totally off your radar. You're never gonna let him step foot into this apartment let alone sell to him again.
"Yeah you don't need an ounce," you say smiling, thinking of how he came in all politely with his tennis racket just like a puppy, tail tucked nervously between its legs, not knowing if he should stand or sit, silently observing your things. He has a good head on his shoulder with a future ahead of him and here you are selling him weed. Who are you to take advantage of such a thing just because Patrick sent him?
"So what do I need?"
"Probably some melatonin and a really good massage. But I'll give you an eighth and pretend like this never happened." This is the first time you've felt bad about selling. You take a jar from a drawer. There's even more weed in it than on the table, but in clumps. Green wads with streaks of purple. You set each on the scale in individuals first before packaging his pile in the bag you grabbed from earlier. "Here."
"How much?"
"On me this time. Think of it as a sample. You got a grinder or you smoking with Patrick?" Art's at a loss for words. He wants to pay you. He has cash too. He'll take you out to dinner. Instead he just says
"No, I, uh. Don't."
"Want me to roll you a joint?"
But before he can say anything you already find yourself folding a zig-zag with the filter, scooping the weed you have out with your fake nail into the paper. Art watches your hands. An expert at work. He thinks how everyone has their own niche and this is yours, just like how he has the tennis court.
When you walk him out you tell him to be safe. You're still smiling. You've never been this happy to not get money. He's about to leave but says, "I can pay, you know. I want this to be an honest transaction and everything."
"Art, I'm a drug dealer."
"Yeah, well--"
"Bye, Artie."
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radio-fmm · 1 year ago
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Withered
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Sanji x gardener!reader
Warnings: fluff with a little angst, mentions of sickness and fainting, fem reader
Word count: 1,526 words
Summary: In which you got sick because you worked so hard. From my gardener!reader series but can be read as a stand alone.
⋆ ˚ ꩜ 。 ⋆୨୧˚
“SANJI IT’S NOT FAIR” Luffy screamed while throwing himself at the cook who was busy prepping vegetables “Luffy we already told you that because y/n is sick the garden is not in conditions for us to eat stuff from it” Nami said for like a millionth time that day.
You had fainted yesterday morning and have had a fever since, you were still very weak, because of this, your powers affected all the plants around the ship… and Sanji’s mood apparently, he had already gone trough half a box of cigarettes and it was just past noon.
“But you’re making something why can’t I have some?” The captain whined once more “This is all the vegetables I could salvage from the garden and its all going to y/n’s soup so she can get better sooner” he explained as patiently as he could. Since the garden was withering the food rations were now just half, and obviously the most affected form this was Luffy since he wasn’t having any snacks between dinners. “I’ve never seen her sick like this” sighed Nami a little worry in her eyes “Don’t worry! We have the best doctor in the world! He’ll take care of her!” Luffy exclaimed, he noticed how Sanji tensed at Namis comment, breath shaky “You know she’s strong, she’ll be fresh as a fruit in no time!” he said while patting Sanji’s back smiling brightly.
He took the vegetable soup steaming hot and walked to your room, opened the door ever so slowly so he wouldn’t make any noise and wake you up. He was greeted with Chopper sitting beside your bed with a cold towel in your forehead “How is she?” Sanji asked in a whisper “Better that yesterday but still has a little fever, she’ll be up in a day or two” Chopper explained with worry… there was something he wasn’t telling for sure “Is it just a fever?” Sanji positioned the soup in the nightstand beside you while looking at the doctor who had started to sweat “Oh yeah yeah just… just that no biggie he he” He answered quickly while looking away from the cook. Sanji tensed, eyes twitching “Chopper…” he went down to his eye level “It wouldn’t be really professional if you lied to me about a patient diagnosis would it?” the reindeer panicked “She made me promise! Confidentiality with my patients comes first!”
There it was… The blonde sighed and massaged his temples “If you don’t tell me I’ll probably go insane” there was a pause, the doctor was getting worried not only about you but now also about Sanji, he looked so disheveled, big bags under his eyes, hair all over the place, his smell of cigarettes stronger than other days and instead of having his neatly tuxedo on he had just thrown in a shirt, no tie, with a couple loosed buttons… he looked like he was going insane. “Fine, just because I know you care a lot” he started “She fainted because she had pushed her body too far. In our last fight with the marines she used her powers to protect us too long and didn’t rest properly” he paused to look at you “Her body is just asking for a break, I scolded her because this is not the first time she ends up sick because of this, and she asked me to keep it a secret”
Of course you did… you always overworked yourself and Sanji couldn’t do anything about its since he did that too, how ironic. He looked back at where you slept, you looked so peaceful for someone so sick, your hair covering the pillow like a spider web and your mouth parted a little. “I gave her medicine and the fever has gone down but she needs to rest!”
“Thank you Chopper I’ll take care of her now” the cook sat at the end of the bed as the reindeer left the room quietly
He admired you for a moment, worry shaking trough his body. You’ve been a straw hat for a long time now, and still felt like you owed everyone. “Sunlight” he spoke up. As he removed hairs from your face, you groaned and wiggled under the covers, scrunched your face as you opened your eyes trying to focus on the man before you “There you are” he said feeling a little better since he could look at your eyes once more.
“Sanji?” You yawned and stretched before you felt a stinging pain travel trough your muscles that made you groan “Take it easy dear” Sanji stood up and helped you sit on your bed “It’s ok I got it” slowly but surely you made yourself comfortable. “Made you this” Your eyes widened a smiled was painted on your face “Oh god I most be dreaming!” you let out a laugh that made Sanji feel lighter, softer. How could you still be bright as day while you’re sick? “Thank you! You didn’t had to tho” you tried to take the plate from his hands but he backed up “Slow down there sweetheart” he grinned playfully “Now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a sick woman eat by herself?” Maybe you should get sick more often if it meant having this kind of treatment form the cook, your whole face turned all shades of red and you stiffened. But the day you decline Sanji’s food, is the day you’ve gone mad, so you leaned and took the spoonful.
You happily ate the whole plate between chatter laughs and shared stares “Sanji I really don’t know how you manage to outdo yourself every time!” You always made sure the cook knew how amazing his skills were, which always made him smile proud and puff out his chest feeling absolutely unstoppable “Thank you dear” you smiled and thanked him for the hundred time “Can you do me a favor Sanji? Before you leave?” The mentioned felt his legs babble at the way his name left your lips, whenever you asked him something, which was very rare because you’re not the type to ask for help for anyone, your voice always flowed in such a way, like a soft plead, that made Sanji’s breath and heartbeat stop “Anything dear!”
“Could you open the blinds for me?” without missing a beat he opened them so that the sun could pour in your room, you closed your eyes and sighed in satisfaction, taking in the rays of sun like a flower opening her petals Sanji thought, you looked angelic
“Can I now ask you something y/n” your eyes opened in fear, whenever the blonde cook called you by your name without nothing endearing attached to it he was about to say something really serious “Of course” all your attention was on him who sat now in the chair next to you so he could see you better and closer “Why are you overworking yourself?” a silence was followed, nervousness hanged in the air piercing both of your ears, you’ve talked about this with Sanji before but nothing ever this serious. You looked at him and notice his weary eyes, you sighed “I… don’t know” your eyes ran away from his face “I just want to be of use for everyone in the crew… did Chopper said something?” The cook nodded with a little guilt as you covered your face in your hands, embarrassed to be somehow a burden.
“You all make me so happy, so this is my way to pay you back” you offered a smile as Sanji sat there, wordless, it was like he was hearing his own thoughts, your hearts were so much alike that it stunted him sometimes, so, he said what he would like to hear himself “You’re not a tool or a maid, you’re a strawhat” he leaned in to take your hand in his “Luffy invited you to join this crew not only because of your powers or strength, but also because he believes in you and likes you… as so do I” you felt your eyes water a bit which made the blondes heart hurt “Your health and happiness is important to everyone in the crew”.
You sighed and hugged Sanji, tightly and with such eagerness and grateful you could always count on him to make you feel wanted and important, you were always strong and kind in front of everyone but he always managed to get your vulnerable side out “Thank you Sanji, I promise I won’t do that ever again” you whispered in his ear, Sanji felt like floating, your hug was so full of love that made his head spin, heart pounding hard and pink creeping trough his neck, you were so sweet “But I must ask you the same, please let me help you too” he stiffened, he sure wasn’t ready for that talk.
He cleared his throat before pulling out of your embrace which hurt him like hell and taking the plate “You don’t worry that pretty head of yours dear” he walked towards your door “I’ll keep an eye on you cook!”
Oh please, do~
⋆ ˚ ꩜ 。 ⋆୨୧˚
I sweat next one in the series would be a confession I had this idea and got carried away lol, as always you can request what you wanna read about these two and correct me if I made any mistakes English is not first language!
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susiekern · 1 month ago
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2. the one with the stalker
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol
word count: 1,457
masterlist
previous | next
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Yuji was walking on thin ice. Why? He forgot to mention it was a four-person outing, not just three. Yes, when you and Nobara walked into one of your go-to bars, Yuji was already there with none other than Megumi. Surprisingly, aside from one or two snarky comments, the first hour went well. You all had a drink or two by this point, and you could feel yourself getting relaxed, even with the raven-haired man sitting on the opposite side of the booth. Until you see a familiar face in the crowd, and you duck to hide yourself behind Yuji.
“Cover me, please.” Seeing confused looks, you sigh and sneakily point towards the bar. “Noritoshi is here.” Itadori and Kugisaki nod in understanding, while Megumi looks only more confused.
“He follows y/n on every social media platform she has and asked her out like a year ago. He was always active on her streams and seemed cute, so they went for a coffee. Big mistake. He turned into an actual stalker. Once he showed up at our door, God knows how he found out where we live, with like a hundred roses, and refused to leave until y/n goes on another date with him. Yuji had to scare him off.” Nobara explains as you hide behind Yuji, who now turns sideways to make a human wall out of himself.
“He said I owe him one more for all the donations he made. Do I look like a fucking cam girl or something? 100 for a coffee date, 1000 for a blowjob?” You sigh and lean your head on the table.
“I can see how he got it wrong, honestly.” Megumi says with a smirk, referring to your outfit for the night. With the mission laundry on the go, something that you and Nobara sucked at, you weren’t left with many options. Hence why you’re now sitting in a bodycon black dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Something that Megumi pointed out as soon as he saw you, obviously. You’d still choose that over a hair-dye-stained t-shirt that Nobara had on.
You decide to leave his words without comment this one time, peering above Yuji’s arm. Noritoshi’s gone, and you relax a little, grabbing your empty glass that definitely needs a refill. Quickly telling the rest you’re going for another one, you get up and make your way through the people. One nod at the bartender is enough of a sign, and you watch how this pretty blonde girl prepares your negroni, hoping it’ll be more spicy than her look. Her pace is impressive, but that’s what you’d expect on a busy night. It’s not fast enough, though, you think to yourself when someone takes a seat next to you and says your name.
“Y/n! I thought I saw you earlier.” Noritoshi Kamo smiles at you innocently, putting his hand on the bar, just a few centimeters too close to yours.
“What do you want, Kamo?” You decide to cut the bullshit. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen him here, accidentally bumping into you or your friends and taking every occasion to talk to you. Even if every time he gets rejected.
“To talk. You’ve blocked me everywhere, y/n. How are we supposed to address the situation if I can’t text you?” There’s a genuine consternation both in the voice and on the face of the man next to you. You can’t help but laugh. His delusion could make the teenage girls jealous, really.
“When someone blocks you, it’s usually because they don’t want to talk to you.”
“But you’re not like that. I know what you’re trying to do, y/n.” He furrows his brows. A sigh of relief escapes your mouth when the bartender finally sets a drink in front of you.
“The problem is that you don’t know. Or you refuse to. Either way, I’m not interested.” You pay for the drink and get up from the stool. “It was extremely unpleasant, let’s not do it again.”
Noritoshi stops you, grabbing your arm with a lot more strength than ever.
“I’m not done talking to you.” He says, his voice filled with something you haven’t heard before from him. Anger? Frustration? Whatever it was, it made you feel uneasy, probably more than his grip on your elbow.
“But she’s done with you. Seriously dude, can’t you take a hint?” The third voice joins this drama episode, and you feel relief flooding your body, recognizing it’s Megumi. Noritoshi definitely didn’t expect anyone to interrupt, and thanks to that, he drops his hand from you in shock. You can feel Megumi’s body behind your back as he stands close and leans forward to grab your negroni, the other hand landing gently on your shoulder. “And I’m not even sorry for stopping this… lovely chat, but we need her back and away from you.”
With one last look at your stalker’s face, you let Fushiguro lead you back to the booth your group was occupying. Far gentler than you’d expect, he sits you down at your spot, sets the drink on the table, and takes his spot opposite from you, just like before. Only then do you notice the absence of the other two.
“Where are Yuji and Nobara?” You ask quietly and take a sip, letting the alcohol slowly soothe your nerves.
“Yuji went to the bathroom, and I think Kugisaki is dancing somewhere.”
“Thanks. You know, for saving me there.” Your words are so quiet that you start to wonder if he can even hear you, but when he leans back on the leather couch and smirks, you know he did.
“You might be annoying, but I hate when people don’t understand what no means.” Megumi shrugs and moves his gaze towards the dance floor. You sit in silence for a minute before he decides to add “You owe me one.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll be your prince in shining armor when your stalker throws herself on you.” You laugh, and for a moment he actually smiles too. Unfortunately, before you can tease him about it, Yuji comes back and unknowingly starts telling you everything that happened to him in the past minutes, making you forget both about Noritoshi and Megumi’s smile, at least for a moment.
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It was Tuesday afternoon, your workday. Sort of.
Video games were always something you enjoyed, and back in 2020, when the pandemic locked everyone at home, you started streaming for fun. You didn’t expect it to become anything more than a fun activity for free evenings, and even now, four years later, sometimes you couldn’t believe it was your full-time job. In the first few months, you’ve managed to build an incredible community that grew bigger each day, and then you’ve made your first money, and it kept going.
That’s why now, you’re sitting in your comfortable chair, headphones discarded on the desk, after almost four hours of playing. It was your tradition to spend at least the last half an hour just interacting with chat, answering questions, and talking about everything.
“Yeah, Yuji will join me on Sunday for the new Call of Duty. We’ll be testing the multiplayer since critics had a lot to say about it.” You answer one of the followers and smile seeing the reactions.
Yuji joined you once about a year ago when you did “Drunk Among Us” and needed a partner, and your followers absolutely loved him. Now he was growing his own channel, but you still often did streams together. Every time you announced a stream with him, your chat was ecstatic and filled with questions about you two. Yeah, people ship you; there are even edits somewhere on the internet, no matter how many times you both said you were just friends.
Somewhere in the middle of telling how much you hated the movie you’ve seen recently with Nobara, your background music starts to mix with another sound. Guitar, coming from behind your wall. You furrow your brows and stop the music to make sure you’re not going crazy. But no, it’s still there, and you even recognize the song.
“Sorry for that, guys. My new neighbor can get loud and annoying, and his room is literally behind my wall.”
plushie87: OMG, is that Starlight by The Fallen???
yusshi: TASTE
zeyde_: as a guitar player, respectfully, SHEESH
viviaaan: I just know he/she is hot, only hot people can play this solo so well
You roll your eyes at the comments, but you have to agree with some of them. It’s one of your favorite songs, by your favorite band, and you know how tricky that guitar solo is. And by the sound of it, Megumi played it perfectly. Asshole.
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ethereacals · 5 months ago
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10 Things I HATE About: You. (part two!)
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summary: James is starting to get desperate when Lily continues to reject his attempts to date her, as she reveals she's not allowed to date until her completely opposite twin sister does. which seems highly unlikely, (thats why its such a good rule). so James comes up with a grand plan to get Sirius to date her, what could go wrong?
(literally just the story of 10tihay)
wc: 1,401
pairings: evans!slytherin!reader (jeezus thats a mouthful) x sirius black
tropes: grumpy x sunshine, because of a bet
contents: angst? (if that's what we call it) to comfort, happy ending, james doesn't think before he does something, mulciber is sexist (but what’s new)
Pt: 2-3
a/n; i’d like to apologize to those who have waited so long, my dyslexia has been getting worse and worse recently and writing was something i started dreading to do, but i’m back and better then ever! thanks for a patience 🫶
(part one)
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WELL, SIRIUS WAS FUCKED. and not in the enjoyable way.
how could he do this to himself, how could he do this to James? he wasn't meant to actually like you.
your rejections shamefully bruised his bulletproof ego, crushing it to pieces like a glass heart.
but they meant the world to him, he loved your routinely reluctance and the way you always seemed to be running away from him.
it was a game he was more than willing to play.
as long as you never found out everything was a bet; he could keep you forever like he was in love the whole time.
selfish, really. but Sirius Black was a selfish man.
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"how was your date with the dog, Sugar?" Barty teased excitedly, jumping off the bed to run over to you.
"lovely, actually."
"I KNEW I- wait, what?" He was completely prepared for you to say it was horrid.
"lovely, i said. please don't make me say it again."
"I'm so glad it was nice, dear." Dorcas cooed, wrapping her arms around you.
"have anything in common with your loverboy?" Barty sighed dejectedly, sitting you down on the bed.
"we both like Fleetwood Mac." you admitted sheepishly, twisting your hair like some immature school girl with a crush (which wasn't exactly far off).
"that's great!" Dorcas cheered softly, taking your hand.
"I'm falling for him." you blurted out, blushing once you even realized the thought had come out of your mouth.
"that explains it." Pandora pondered.
"explains what, lil' sis?" Evan asked confusedly.
"her aura," Pandora began, "it's oddly pinkish."
"n-no, it's not." you refused.
"the nargles don't lie, Y/N."
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one early morning Quidditch practice— you were on the field stretching as you heard the speakers begin to stir.
“you’re just too good to be true~”
“can’t take my eyes off of you~”
everyone on Slytherin and the other teams looked around, as you saw Sirius with a microphone belting “Can’t Take My Eyes off You” by Franke Valli.
what. the. fuck.
obviously— Madame Hooch had his head for it.
but he must’ve thought it was worth it, just to see you laugh at his antics.
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Sirius kept the bet going, though he'd rather cut the deal and just date you regularly. like normal people do.
you, on the other hand, were unaware of the bet and were wishing Sirius would leave you alone and stop asking you out.
because your personal feelings were growing way too strong, and you didn't need some man to swoop in and save you like some damsel-in-distress. You were perfectly capable of saving yourself, thank you very much.
your singleness proved that. But why was Sirius Black, of all people, so enticing?
you kept going out with Sirius for as long as you could, until the butterflies in your stomach stopped fluttering, and the spark that ignited in your heart whenever he looked at you fizzled out.
your plan is to stop your heart from aching every time you see Sirius Black. How do you plan to do that?
spend as much time with him as possible until your conversations become boring and predictable. That should do the trick!
news flash: trying to bore yourself out of a crush didn't work at all. In fact, it backfired and now you're even more attracted to Sirius Black than before. what are you going to do now?
you were sat in potions when Peter anxiously slid a piece of paper towards you, clearing his throat and motioning you to open it.
“s’from Sirius.” he whispered, cracking his knuckles as he turned back to his Cauldron.
confused, you opened the (rather large) piece of parchment and read down the words carefully.
“My Dearest Y/N L/N,
if you are able and would like to spare an inch of your time to grace me with your lovely presence by the lake at exactly 6’o clock this evening? i’d love to have you in my company for a small surprise (though you don’t like them— it’s small, promise.).
see you there, princess?
-S.O.B (xoxo)”
your eyes skimmed over the letter, as if to check if it was fake or some sort of sick joke.
but.. nothing was exploding or falling apart so… it should be safe.
besides, you were beginning to trust Sirius. he wasn’t the worst person ever.
that thought made you severely sick to your stomach, that the rotten little first year you knew had blossomed into such a beautiful thing.
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and that night was amazing.
you guys danced, joked, laughed… kissed..
it was like a fairytale.
your dreams of your very own happily ever after were squashed when you were far too young by your older yet muggle sister, Petunia.
she said there is no such thing as runaway princesses, daring sword fights, fire breathing dragons, mystical fairies, etc.
and she particularly liked telling her and Lily that happily ever after never happened, that it was a myth.
but his lips felt like happily ever after.
his gaze felt like happily ever after.
he felt like happily ever after.
“so, are you thinking about going to the spring dance?” Sirius asked gingerly, knowing you weren’t keen on the topic.
“no, it’s a stupid tradition.”
“c’mon, nobody will expect you to be there!”
“why are you so keen on this? what’s in it for you?”
he ignored your question, looking down at his pitch black painted nails.
“you need therapy, you know that?” he quipped, looking back over to your aggravated look.
“you’re ignoring my question.”
“nothing! nothing is in it for me!” he finished his sentence off with a cautious kiss on your forehead, leaving you with a soft smile.
it killed him at he lied to you.
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but that happily ever after was clearly— too short.
after lovely dates and nearly becoming official multiple times, everything had come crashing down onto you.
here; let me explain.
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many people would say that Sirius deserved better than you, but you learned long ago to ignore the sting of people’s words on your skin.
Sirius seemed to make it all better though.
it was annual Hogwarts spring dance season, and you usually would refuse to go.
and you weren’t crazy about the idea of a bunch of sweaty, hormonal teenagers dancing for hours on end.
but maybe with Sirius it wouldn’t be bad.
you’d even went dress shopping with Dorcas, something you would’ve never ever done.
so the night of the dance, everything went to hell.
“hey! Peter!.. have you seen Sirius?” you yelled over the loud music, the bass pounding in your eardrums.
“Pads? umm, yeah i think he’s with James!”
“Thanks.” you thanked half-assedly.
You scoured the Great Hall, messing nervously with your hair as you spotted him chatting with James.
“Pads, come on. You know i love you but you need to get a move on with this bet if you want the rewards.” James placed a strong hand on his friends smaller shoulder, not noticing you were there.
“I know, Prongs, I’ll probably just— ghost her after tonight or something, i guess.” again he felt bad lying to James, since he’d never ever dream of ghosting you ever.
but this time one of his lies caught up with him.
“nothing in it for you, huh?” His head perked up as he saw you standing infront of him, you took a disappointed glance at James and ran out of the ballroom. he followed close behind.
"would you give me a chance?" He tried to reason, following you up the staircases.
"You were paid to take me out! by the one person i truly hate. I knew this was a set up!" You yelled heart brokenly, stopping a few steps above him.
"Y/n, it wasn't like that, okay?"
"Really? what was it like? A down payment now and then a bonus for sleeping with me?"
"No, I didn't care about the money, okay? I cared... I cared about you."
You turned to face him with a countenance of both sadness and anger.
"You are so not who I thought you were." You muttered sadly.
In desperation, Sirius grabbed you and attempted to solve the issue by pressing his lips against yours, trying to recapture any spark.
but much to his chagrin, you jerked away from him. giving him a disgusted look as you fled back up the staircase towards your dorm room.
Nice one, Pads.
part three coming soon!
taglist <3:
@m1nank0 @hisparentsgallerryy @universallybilzzardlove @m4r4udersmyluvs @heyyrose @thescarletredwitch @0strawberrysorbet0 @bubbles2416
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black00olive · 6 months ago
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Grateful For Rain
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A/N: As I was writing this I felt that it was a little out of character for her to not have any invention with her that could help her in the rain, so I decided to play into it a little- In any case, this is fanfiction, Thirteen is allowed to be a little out of character for plot reasons ( = ⩊ = )
Pairing: Thirteen x reader
Wordcount: ~1100 words
Summary: Thirteen doesn’t like rain. Because of plot reasons, the usually well-prepared Thirteen doesn’t have an umbrella or any other invention that could help her out. So, she ends up sharing an umbrella with you.
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Thirteen has never been able to understand those who find joy in the rain, whether that is joy in simply listening to it or also being out in the rain. Nevertheless, Thirteen can’t stand either of it; she can’t stand rain. She stares at the pouring rain from under the porch of RAD with a sour expression on her face. There had been no sign that there would be any rain earlier so she hadn’t brought an umbrella with her, which had obviously proved to be a dumb decision. “This is why I shouldn’t have joined this program,” she grumbles while crossing her arms, “I wouldn’t have been stuck like this if I just stayed in my cave.”
“Thirteen?” Her head snaps to the direction from which your voice came and she sees you standing by the entrance door with a confused look on your face. Thirteen feels her cheeks flush, she hopes you hadn’t heard what she said. She’d hate for you to think that she didn’t like the program that brought the two of you together.
Clearing her throat while smiling at you she cheerily waves you over. She notes that as you walk over to her you don’t have any demon following after you— nor angel, nor annoying and eccentric sorcerer. “Hi! That’s surprising, you don’t have any of your little princelings following at your heels today?” She questions and you bark out a laugh at how she refers to the guys— it’s such a cute sound, she really does love hearing you laugh— before shaking your head.
“Nah, they’re basically all busy today so I’m supposed to walk home by myself today,” you shrug as you explain, “I was about to start heading home but then I saw you just standing here, so I came to ask: what are you doing? Something to do with a new invention?” You look at her with sparkles in your eyes and she tries to give you a confident smile, but it ends up more half-hearted than intended. She wishes that she was standing out here doing something fun like testing a new invention but alas that is not the case.
She shakes her head as she turns to look back out at the rain while playing with her hair. “I wish, the real reason I’m standing here is much more lame.” Raising an eyebrow you tilt your head, urging her to explain. “I forgot to bring an umbrella,” she sighs, “if it were other weather I could probably just book it back to my cave, but I really just can’t stand rain.”
“You don’t have a comedically convenient invention with you that could help you deal with the rain?”
She rolls her eyes and huffs at you calling her inventions “comedically convenient,” she’s just well prepared. Or, at least she’s usually well prepared. Thirteen shakes her head again and you hum out in understanding as you join her in watching the pouring rain. The two of you continue to stand like that in silence for a while, which Thirteen doesn’t mind— it doesn’t matter what the two of you are doing as long as you’re doing it together until you eventually speak up again.
“I’ve got an umbrella,” you suddenly announce and Thirteen turns to you a little confused. Do you want her to be jealous or something? The confusion is apparently very obvious on her face because you start clarifying. “Like, you could come with me back to the House of Lamentation— since I have an umbrella— and stay there until the rain stops, that way you won’t have to deal with the rain. Or we could even have, like, a sleepover, it’s been some time since we last hung out, right?” You had already started taking your umbrella out of your bag before you had even finished speaking as if there was no possibility of Thirteen not going with you.
She wants to be a little snarky about the fact that you so easily assume that of her, but the truth is that you’re right. Walking with you while sharing an umbrella and sleeping over does sound really nice. And it’s true, you’ve been very busy recently so she hasn’t been able to hang out with you much. Also, isn’t sharing an umbrella pretty romantic? Her mind quickly supplies and she feels her cheeks heat up a little, that’s like something straight out of Leviathan’s romance manga!
“Are you sure you aren’t just using this as a chance to hit on me and share an umbrella?” Thirteen teases as you open the umbrella and hold it in between the two of you— sort of like an invisible barrier, she frowns a little at that thought.
“And what if I was? I’m going to use any chance I get to hit on you, Silly,” you give her the cutest smirk and playfully shove her with your elbow. “Anyway, if anything one might think that you’re the one using this rain as an excuse to share an umbrella. Like, who are you and what have you done with my beloved, Thirteen, who always has something to save the day?” Thirteen sends you a playful glare at the mention of how she had clumsily forgotten an umbrella, but her annoyed facade quickly breaks as the two of you dissolve into a fit of laughter (She ignores how her heart started beating faster when you called her “my beloved”).
You two eventually manage to stifle your laughter. A voice in the back of her mind asks why she had been laughing so hard when what you had said wasn’t even that funny, but she thinks that when she’s with you everything tends to be funnier— everything tends to be more in a way; more vibrant, more lively, more comfortable. Staring at you as you wipe away the small tears that had begun to form in the corners of your eyes she hopes that you feel the same way with her.
“So?”
“So what?” She asks as you gesture to the umbrella still covering the both of you even though you two hadn’t even stepped out into the rain yet.
“So, what’s your answer? You never actually said if you were up for walking back to the House of Lamentation with me.” You say casually while giving her a gentle smile and she returns it to you.
“As if I’d ever turn down a chance to hang out with you.”
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lemonlaur · 1 year ago
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GAMBLING ADDICTION
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 fushiguro toji x fem! reader 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 synopsis: a new regular at your work who always bets on losing dogs; at least most of the time. . . 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 word count: 3.2k 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 cw — sort of slow burn, rough sex, oral sex, cunnilingus, blowjob, smut, doggy style, breast groping, hair pulling, biting, hickies mdni ♡ ࣪₊♡𓂃 note — my first time writing smut in a while and my first tumblr post! if you enjoy it, please comment or reblog, it would make me so happy (and maybe do more teehee)
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“Takoyaki,” the broad-shouldered man ordered, not even bothering to look at you. He was engrossed with the race on television, just like every other person here. 
You were beginning to reconsider working next to the sportsbetting eatery outside of Tokyo. There was never an issue with people paying for their food, which one might expect from petty gamblers, but most just lacked manners.
“That’ll be 500 yen,” you chimed, catching a glimpse at his betting card as he gave you the banknotes from the same hand. Number four – 10,000 yen. 
The race concluded while he waited for his food, and it wasn’t hard to see that number four was not in the first. Or second, for that matter. The man let out an annoyed sigh before crumbling the slip and shoving it into his baggy gray pants.
Then, he finally looked at you. Maybe it was because you had the octopus balls. 
“Here’s your order, sir,” you felt a little nervous under his intense gaze, not expecting the sudden eye contact. “Chopsticks are on the tables, and green tea is by the door.”
“When’s the next race?”
“Oh, um,” you weren’t the bookie, but this was a common question. “Usually there’s only one boat race a day during this season. But, there’s horse racing in about an hour, though.”
He looked at you, then the food, and finally offered a half smirk in your direction. His mouth turned up on one end, opposite of what looked like an old scar. Your cheeks heated up and averted your eyes to help the next customer, obviously. He then took a seat between the cash register and the television screen. 
You watched as the same scene repeated itself, and he lost. 
This wasn’t uncommon, but usually after two losses, especially with the money he was betting, the patrons just left. 
“Hey,” someone said.
You were thinking to yourself while wiping down one of the tables, and jumped at the same deep voice from earlier.
 “You work here everyday?” The voice belonged to the man from before, and without a counter and register between you both, you could really feel the size difference. Before you could answer, he continued, “If you’re here everyday, maybe you have a better idea of what normally wins.”
You hadn’t anticipated a question about betting, but you liked to think you knew a thing or two. 
“I can’t predict the future or anything, but tomorrow, I bet Hoshimi – the horse in the district next to us – is going to win. He hasn’t won the last two, coming in second both times, but I think that’s why the jockey will secure it this time. He’ll have more drive.” Tomorrow would be a slow day, as all Mondays tended to be, and therefore you knew the most about those leagues. 
“What do I do if I have no more money to bet with?” He replied.
“Um,” you blankly stared at the man who must’ve thrown away at least 20,000 yen today. “You leave?” 
“No, no.” He chuckled breathily. Leaning against the table you’d just been wiping down, he asked, “What if, instead of betting money I don’t have, you and I make a bet? On your horse –” he looked at your nametag “[Name].”
You blinked a couple of times, rather surprised. The way he said your name made it sound a little better, but maybe that’s because you were tired. He also looked a lot better than most of the customers. “Make a bet? I’m just an employee, so maybe you’d better find someone else.”
“I think it would be some honest, good fun, and nobody’s wallet suffers,” the unnamed man explained. “If you’re here all the time, it might bring some excitement to the monotony,” he waved his hands in the general direction of some typical drunk patrons. 
He did have a compelling way with words, and it’s not like you’d lose any money. Plus, if he showed up again, that was enough of a win – he was sober, must’ve had some sort of income, and was rather handsome. You’ll give him the benefit of the doubt for being a little rude earlier, he did have a lot of money on that race. 
“If there’s no money, I am all game,” you agreed. 
* * *
Every Monday, Toji, who finally gave you his name, came in to bet on the horses. He would go to the bookkeeper beforehand to get his card before coming over to you. He would order his takoyaki, ask your horse (always the same), and sit between the register and television, watching. 
The first few times, you just would discuss your picks, and whoever won simply had the satisfaction. However, the two of you grew more and more competitive, as if addicted to the idea of one upping the other. 
“[Name], I am a betting man,” Toji had come in unexpectedly on a Wednesday, with a betting card in his hands. “I know for sure that number six is going to demolish the others in this race today, and I’ll make 100,000 yen.”
“If you say so,” you teased. You’d only ever seen him win petty matches when betting on baseball teams so far.
“I bet you, my guy is going to win,” he slammed his muscular palm onto the counter you worked at. “Real stakes this time.”
“Oh, like money? I get paid to watch you,” you dusted off your work apron, stretching your arms out. 
“No, no money, something more valuable,” he explained. “Your time. My guy wins, you owe me a date. I can even pay for your time off work, considering my wallet after the win.”
You felt your cheeks grow hot and you looked at his smug expression, both ends of his scarred mouth twitching up. “Oh, and what do I get if mine wins?” You decided to ignore his stake for a moment, not willing to let him see you caught off-guard. 
It’d been about a month since you’d met him, and he’d become so much of a friend you forgot how attractive you’d initially thought he was. It was not hard to come back to, that’s for sure. It wouldn’t be a loss, per say, but your competitive spirit might be a little bruised. 
“Whatever you want,” he explained, “but not money.” He held out his hand as if you’d already agreed upon the bet verbally. “Also, the race starts in five minutes, so I’d pick your. . . whatever the sport is.”
Feeling a little less worried, because Toji hadn’t even bothered to look at what he was placing bets on, you shook his hand. 
The parlor barely had anyone in it because it was a midday boat race, so you decided to join him at his usual spot to choose your boat. You decided to go with number four because you needed to think fast, and his odds would likely be no better than yours.
Toji was looking at you more than he was looking at the race, as if he’d already won. But you ignored it, clutching your first as though there was an imaginary betting card. If he lost, maybe you would have him do something goofy or tell him to quit betting and just eat here. 
The boats were pretty neck and neck, with four, five, and six barely a needle ahead of one another. 
The bell rang as a customer opened the door, and you jumped to go back to the register. You tried to simultaneously pay attention to the race onscreen as a tired businessman ordered a bowl of ramen; but had to focus on giving the man his change.
By the time you’d shut the register, you were met with the final lap – number six in the lead. “Damn,” you muttered, leaning your body across the counter to get a closer look, as if the kanji for four and six couldn’t be more different. 
You saw Toji’s smirk go throughout his entire body as he looked from the television to the register, beaming. “I told you, my guy was going to win.”
“You got lucky this once,” you said, knowing his track record. While you felt a bit like a sore loser for a moment, you felt the hairs on your neck stand up as you realized what this meant. A date with Toji. 
* * *
You had taken off work today for whatever Toji had planned, and picked the perfect date outfit for the crisp weather. About fifteen minutes after the time he’d said he would come get you, he was here, wearing the same tight shirt but with a jacket slung on top, and much tighter pants than normal. 
“You look nice,” you said, feeling a little awkward, seeing him outside of your work. 
“I’m surprised that you can look cuter than when in uniform,” he said, putting a warm, muscular hand on the small of your back. He led you out of your apartment, and you began to feel more comfortable with this idea.
He’d picked out a nice, but not terribly fancy, sushi restaurant on the outskirts of Tokyo. You’d agreed to share some rolls to have some variety, and everytime you leaned over to get a piece on his side, you could feel his eyes roaming you. Not that you were much better; when he would use his chopsticks and lean in, you had an unintentional habit of staring at the shiny scar on his lips. 
“I bet,” he swallowed a bite of yellowtail, “that you think I’m attractive.”
“You’re a betting man, I’m not surprised you’d think so,” you kept your eyes on the sushi, but nervously swayed your feet under the table. In a swift motion, you felt Toji’s leg against yours. 
In what felt like a game of chicken, after who knows how many betting games, you nudged his leg.The table wasn’t exactly the biggest, but it was clearly on purpose. Under the table, he brushed his fingertips across your leg, sending shivers down your spine.
The two of you continued to talk idly about your day, things that either one of you had planned, as his muscular hand trailed up your leg. His calloused hands, from who knows what kind of work, grazed the edge of your skirt, and you inhaled sharply – stopping talking.
While he wasn’t not smiling before, that familiar smirk popped up again. 
“How is your food?” He asked, the smirk even changing his tone of voice. 
“Amazing,” you took your chopsticks and popped another roll into your mouth. “You should try some of this nigiri,” wanting to get back at him, you picked up the piece as if to feed him. 
He made no effort to even play along, quickly biting it off with the same smug expression. “Delicious,” and his fingers returned to your hem, unmoving. “Don’t you think it’s good?” Toji stared at you intently, and you made the connection. 
You nodded, and felt his hand gently brush your inner thigh before he pulled away. Whatever breath you’d accidentally been holding in was let go as the waiter dropped the check off, and you were brought back to reality. Damn waiter, you thought. 
Toji calmly paid the bill, before escorting you out of the restaurant, an unwavering look on his handsome face. You felt shy all of a sudden, the boldness in you lost, as you both walked back to your apartment.
“I have to tell you something,” Toji said as you rounded the block to your house. He crossed his arms in front of him before putting one behind his head, “I may have done heavy research on the race so that I would win.”
You were surprised it had taken him so long to start doing research considering his win-lose ratio is rather low. How many thousands of yen down the drain? Then, you realized what else that meant. 
“You could’ve just asked me on a date,” you mumbled, looking at your feet. You felt a little bit surprised because he only did it knowing it would work in his favor. 
Toji brought up your chin with his hand which you should be more than familiar with by now. “I liked my odds more this way. And I got the money to take you out at the same time, obviously.”
Toji made sure to walk you to the door to your apartment. The tension from the restaurant remained. 
“I hope you have a good rest of your night,” Toji hadn’t even let you unlock the door to your apartment when he turned to leave.
“I bet you didn’t think I’d let you in,” you grabbed the back of his jacket as he turned, the other hand turning the key in the door. “This might be the last time you see me outside of a uniform for a while,” you joked. 
“You know what happens if you let me in, right?” Toji hadn’t even turned around. His voice was kind of low, and he spoke carefully to make sure you’d understand him.
“I think I am willing to take my chances.” You were barely able to get the door open before he was inside your apartment, locking the door behind him. 
Your heart pounded in your chest as Toji smirked at you, putting you between his chest and the wall. He leaned in, and you went in too, only to be disappointed by a small peck on the lips. “If you want more, well, the ball is in your court.” 
Already having been frustrated earlier by the teasing, you went in to kiss him deeply, swirling your tongue into his mouth. He laughed into the kiss before quickly asserting his dominance, and reaching his calloused palms under your shirt. 
You shivered at how cold his hands had been from being outside, but continued moaning into the kiss as he unclasped your bra, pinching your already hardened nipples. He pulled away from the kiss, a line of saliva connecting your mouths, letting his fingers graze your nipples for a moment, before smirking and wiping the spit away with his hand. 
“What do you want now?” He asked, pretending as though you were in charge tonight. He winked at you before peeling off his top layers to reveal an even more muscular body than you’d expected. Toji’s bulge was easy to tell because the pants he’d worn were already rather tight, and you’d already felt it pressed against you during the deep kiss. 
“My bedroom, it’s just around the corner,” you explained, a little breathless.
“Lead the way,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Even those looked bigger now that he wasn’t covered by his compression shirt.
You walked down the hall, leading the way, feeling a dampness between your legs. You stopped in the doorway for Toji to catch up, only to be met with an immediate warmth pressed against your back the second you stopped.
“Miss me?” Toji whispered in your ear from behind, wrapping his strong arms around you with his lips tickling your ear. He didn’t need further direction and began quickly using his arms to finish getting your top off from behind.
You turned to face him, both of you topless with far too many clothes on, and reached for his zipper. Toji leaned against the doorframe, smirking as you hastily tried to unzip his pants to reveal his bulge.
“Good girl,” he breathed out as you barely undid his zipper and yanked his boxers down to reveal his cock. In only a few seconds you were on your knees with Toji fucking your face with no hesitation. Your makeup ran down your cheeks as his cock slammed into your throat, the flavor of precum on your tongue. “So obedient,” he groaned out.
This was the other side to the smug gambler you were familiar with, and while it was just as filthy, it was so hot. Your gag reflex didn’t matter to Toji as he brutally rammed into your mouth, your lips red and puckered around his shaft, licking up every bit of seed when he finished.
When your mouth was free, he picked you up as though you weighed nothing, tossing you onto the bed. He was completely naked, and every part of his body looked pristinely built as though he were one of Michaelangelo’s works. “For someone who I maybe tricked into my bet, you seem pretty eager,” he said, getting on top of you. 
“I should get a win by default then,” you sat up under him, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him with your swollen lips.
“I suppose that’s a fair request,” he commented between the making out, hooking a finger on the waistband of your skirt. “You get whatever you want, and I can tell what you want,” Toji’s hand reached under the skirt, grazing the wet spot on your panties. 
In a swift motion, he’d taken off your skirt and panties with his teeth. You felt your face burn, surprised at the cocky man’s behavior as he buried his head between your thighs. Toji’s hands gripped the outside of your thighs as he kissed the insides, making you squirm under his grasp. You gasped as he suddenly began to bite the inside of your thigh, moaning out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. 
“Oh, Toji,” you ran your fingers into his hair, grinding against him. He moved from leaving a hickey on you to eating you out, his tongue swirling around your clit. “Please, fuck me,” you begged as he edged you, licking and teasing your swollen pussy.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Toji flipped you over and pulled your feet to the edge of the bed where he quickly took you from behind, standing, with his strong hands using your hips as handles. You were so wet he slid in no problem, and you gasped at the sudden sensation in your stomach. 
He grabbed your hair, arching your back, and began to thrust in and out of you. His cock throbbed inside of you, and you moaned so loud you worried the neighbors may complain. You were building up to climax steadily from the penetration, but then, he began to rub your clit with his large, warm finger. You felt a warmth growing in you and you moaned his name, wearing it out.
“Good girl,” he said from behind, his thrusts becoming less consistent and more rapid. “I bet you’ll cum before me,” he teased, even though your legs were already shaking with the anticipation of an orgasm. Toji rhythmically rubbed your clit as he fucked you rapidly, and you noticed a puddle of drool on the sheets from your face.
“I’m going to cum,” you moaned, and he yanked your hair like it was a set of reins. As you were reaching your climax, he bit your shoulder, and you gasped as both pain and pleasure filled you. You moaned, almost screaming as your body shook with the intensity of the orgasm, but Toji sped up — you wouldn’t be surprised if his strong hands had bruised your hips in doing so.
“Fuck,” Toji growled from behind you, dropping your hair so that your face fell into the plush sheets. You were thankful now that he was keeping your head up. He suddenly pulled out and you felt unbelievably empty, as your pussy throbbed, before he came on your back.
 “I bet that you’d cum first, didn’t I?” He inquired, lifting your face from the sheets. Toji didn’t even look tired, barely a drop of sweat on him.
“There’s always next time,” you said, smiling. 
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runninriot · 9 months ago
Text
written for @subeddieweek
complete fic posted on ao3
Sweet Thing
rated: E | tags: Client Eddie Munson, Pro Dom Steve Harrington, restraints, sensation play (nipple clamps, pinwheel), 18+ content | snippet, complete fic and tag list on ao3
He shouldn’t have favourites. Shouldn’t feel drawn more to one than to others. They’re all equal, all deserve the best (worst) treatment. It’s a job, a very unusual one but a job nonetheless. He’s here to serve, to execute what he’s being paid for – to make secret fantasies come true and not to succumb to his own.
But ever since the curly haired angel stepped foot into his dungeon some months ago, Steve found it hard to keep it strictly professional.
There is something about that man, Eddie, that messes with Steve’s head in a way he can’t really explain.
He’s good-looking, with dark ink scattered all over his pale skin. Slender but with defined muscles in his shoulders and arms. Has strong thighs, an ass that looks much too biteable, and he has these big, round puppy dog eyes that are especially pretty when they’re red-rimmed and teary.
Eddie is really something to look at and maybe that is why Steve is so hung up on him.
Thankfully, he’s good at pretending.
Can hide the fact that – although not in a physical sense – each session with him is as fulfilling for Steve as it is for the beautiful man currently splayed out on top of the latex sheets.
It’s a real treat to watch him writhe and shiver, his muscles tense from the enormous effort it takes for Eddie to try to hold still.
He fails miserably, can’t keep his arms and legs from instinctively tugging at the restraints keeping him bound to the bed.
Steve leans in close to Eddie’s ear, lips purposely grazing the shell to let the vibration of his voice tickle his skin.
   “Didn’t I tell you not to move?”
   “Y-yes. ‘M sorry.”
Eddie strains his neck, obviously trying to bring some distance between himself and Steve’s mouth but he can’t get far.
   “Y-yes,” Steve mocks him as he repeats Eddie’s stuttering response. “Yes what? Think you forgot something there, sweet thing. Do I have to remind you of the rules?”
Steve grabs him by his throat, the press of his fingers tight enough to force a desperate gasp out of him.
With his other hand, he tightens the clamp on Eddie’s left nipple, turns the screw once, twice until a pathetic little whimper leaves Eddie’s shiny, parted lips.
   “Yes, Sir! I’m sorry, Sir. I- please, it hurts.”
    Good, Steve laughs to himself, satisfied with the way Eddie already has this trembling in his voice like he’s close to crying. And isn’t that a beautiful thought. Eddie is always so pretty when he cries.
   “You gonna behave now and stay still?”
Steve takes a moment to marvel at the view he’s presented with.
Eddie’s eyes are wet, a sheer layer of unshed tears glistening in the dim light of the candles shining down on them from the sideboard to their left.
He is tied down, arms and legs forming an x-shape where he’s spread out like a human sacrifice at the altar. His whole body is a gorgeous work of art. Not only because of the tattoos adorning his skin that is beautifully flushed from his face down to his chest.
His pinched nipples are bright pink from the clamps biting harshly into the sensitive buds.
The picture is perfected by the sight of Eddie’s hard cock straining against his stomach, so desperate to be touched.
Not yet, though. Eddie is Steve’s to play with for a little while longer, is his to be used. And he will drag this out for as long as he can, won’t give Eddie the satisfaction of relief until he is satisfied with his own work.
Steve reaches over to the sideboard, grabs the Wartenberg wheel that’s been waiting there patiently to come into action.
Eddie is a sucker for sensation play. He is so sensitive, reacts so wonderfully to any prickling, stinging, thudding feeling afflicted on his body. Whether it’s with the light, tickling touch of a feather or the quick, sharp burn of hot wax drizzling over his body; he’s so easy to please.
Steve starts on his left, presses the pinwheel against his skin, and lets it roll from his shackled ankle up over his calf. Eddie squirms and whines furiously when the prickling sensation reaches the back of his knee and not for the first time, Steve is glad not to be on the receiving end of things. Eddie’s trembling and twisting gets worse, the further Steve rolls the wheel up the inside of his thigh, playing with the degree of pressure he uses to prick Eddie’s sensitive skin.
He repeats the procedure on Eddie’s right, watches his skin break out in goose bumps while his cock twitches hard at the overwhelming sensation that’s crossing the line between slight discomfort and actual pain - just what Eddie wants.
Eddie gives up on trying to get away, finally accepting that he’s going nowhere. He’s entirely at Steve’s mercy, who keeps going, ruthlessly dragging the pinwheel across the underside of his arms and down his sides, spurred on by Eddie’s pathetic moans.
   “Please, Sir! ‘S too much!” He begs as if that could convince Steve to end his teasing torture.
Eddie knows what to do if he wants him to stop. And Steve knows what Eddie can take.
He always gets so whiny when Steve treats him right. He’s a dream to play with. So easily breakable, so willing to give up control and let Steve take him apart in whichever way he pleases.
So beautiful when he slowly loses his mind, pushed closer and closer to the edge until he’s free falling.
The only problem is that Steve has a hard time not to lose himself.
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tkwrites · 1 year ago
Text
Our Heroes Meet - Quinn Hughes x ofc
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Title: Our Heroes Meet
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Beginning: Quinn Hughes x Original female character 
Warnings: None? First dates, first meetings, so many firsts. 
Summary: When Quinn and Sarah meet, they’re pulled into each other's lives in a way neither one expected. 
Word count: 4,300
Comments: This is the beginning snapshot of Quinn & Sarah. 
I posted this earlier, and took it down less than 4 hours after. I felt that the ending, while cute, wasn’t true to character. After re-working it, here it is again. 
It’s so cute and earnest and I just love it so much. 
Thank you so much for all the support and love for these stories. I really can’t say it enough. 
Our Heroes Meet
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
On a rare free afternoon with the prospect of the following day off as well, Quinn found himself wandering Stanley Park. He hadn’t really set out with the park in mind, but after being home for a few hours, playing an hour or so of Call of Duty with Jack and Luke before their pre-game naps, he needed to get out of the house. Long stretches at home alone didn’t suit him anymore after COVID, when he'd been contractually stuck inside anytime he wasn’t at the rink. It reminded him too much of those long, lonely days.
The Park was touristy, but he liked it. He liked the water, and all the trails, and there was always something new and interesting going on. 
It began to drizzle as he wandered. Within minutes, as it so often did in Vancouver, the rain picked up, pounding into the pavement in sheets. 
Cursing himself for not checking the weather before leaving his apartment, Quinn darted under the awning of the aquarium to keep from getting soaked to the skin. His first thought was to turn away and run back to his car. He didn’t need to be with big crowds of people, especially when everyone was rushing to get inside. On the other hand, he'd never been to the aquarium, and the thought of returning to his empty apartment made him squirm more than the thought of a crowd. 
So, he bought a ticket and wandered into the building, keeping his distance from others, hat pulled low so less people would recognize him. 
He was wandering the BC exhibit when he stumbled upon a pretty young woman speaking to a group of school aged children, explaining to them how octopus camouflage worked. He'd missed most of her talk, but she had several graphics attached to the tank. A little girl in the front was holding a plastic model of an octopus like it was the best gift she'd ever been given. 
The woman's dark hair was pulled up into a bouncy, wavy ponytail. Something glinted in her ears, but she wore no other jewelry. She had a curvy figure, highlighted by the jeans and t-shirt she wore. She looked put together, but not overly so. 
The thing that really made him pause was the light in her eyes when she talked. She was obviously passionate about her work and it was infectious to watch. She answered every child with the same thoughtfulness and enthusiasm. From deeper questions about how the changing environment was affecting marine life, to the little girl holding the model, who asked why octopus have eight arms. 
“You know, we haven’t really figured out why eight is the magic number for them, but they use all of them, so I guess they got to eight and decided they were done.” 
Quinn found himself chuckling while the kids giggled. 
The classes wandered away,  and she began cleaning up her display, putting models and diagrams into a bucket before easing the graphics off the tank glass.
Something pulled him to her as if he'd been hooked in the navel and reeled in. Maybe it was because Millsy had just been chirping him about being too quiet to get a girl. Maybe it was the longing he felt wandering the park alone. Maybe it was fate. Whatever it was, he couldn’t seem to talk himself out of it. 
Standing there like a fool, he watched her work for a few heartbeats too long. 
Quinn didn't like to talk to strangers if he could help it. It’s not that he was scared, necessarily, but he was quiet and often just didn't know how to break the ice. Talking to someone when he didn’t have a middle man to bridge that first interaction made him nervous.
“Can I ask you a question?” he finally said. Lame. Lame. Could he be any more fucking lame? 
“Hi there,”  she said with a bright, friendly smile that took him off guard with its forced cheerfulness. It was such a different look than she’d just been wearing that he found it unnerving that she could flip that quickly. “Where can I direct you?” 
“Oh, no,” Quinn gestured at the place he’d been standing, “I missed part of your talk,” he said, feeling his cheeks begin to blaze. “I wondered if you could tell me more about their camouflage?”
The light that had been in her face came rushing back, as if someone had flipped a switch. She met his eyes and smiled. Something twisted in his stomach. 
He was even a few inches taller than her. More boxes checked off his list.
“Sure, what would you like to know?”
Mostly, he wanted her to keep talking. Finally, his brain came up with something semi intelligent, “do they have all those colors in their skin and just bring them up to the surface when they want to?” 
“Sort of. Their skin is full of chromatophores, which are basically specialized cells that have an elastic sac that’s filled with one of a few pigments, and as they expand and contract the muscles around those cells, more or less pigment is visible. Octopus, and other cephalopods have a nerve attached to every one of those cells, so they can change almost at will. Some scientists are trying to understand if they even need to think about changing, or if it’s just an autonomic nerve response.” She stopped abruptly, “I’m sorry, that’s probably more information than you were looking for. ”
“No, it’s really interesting,” he assured. “How do you know all this? Are you just in charge of the octopus tank?”
“I'm getting my masters degree at  UBC in marine zoology. I do research with one of the octopus we have named Walter, so they ask me to do these talks while I’m here working on that.”
He laughed, “Walter? That's quite the name for a fish.”
“Right?” she agreed, resisting the urge to correct him that Walter was a cephalopod, not a fish. They were two very different categories of animals. “I didn't choose it, but it suits him. He's kind of a curmudgeonly old man sometimes.” 
His phone buzzed, reminding him it was nearly time to eat lunch. 
“Hey, I swear I don't usually do this,” he said, more for his own benefit as he silenced the vibration on his phone, “but do you want to grab some lunch?” 
She glanced at her watch and he felt his face flame as the reality of what he’d just said sunk in. He'd asked her to lunch? While she was working? How out of touch was he? Not everyone worked in the morning for a few hours and basically had the rest of the day free. 
“I have a break coming up at 1, but I'm giving another talk at 2:30, so we couldn't go very far,” she said apologetically, hoping it wouldn’t put him off. 
Quinn felt like he'd won the lottery. He just wanted to keep talking to her. It didn't matter how far they went. For all he cared, they could go to the aquarium cafeteria. “That’s fine.”
A relieved smile spread over her lips. 
Pulling out his phone, he checked the time. “So, I’ll meet you out front in twenty?” he suggested, gesturing vaguely to where he thought the front of the building was.
She nodded. 
As Sarah headed backstage, Rick, one of the aquarium staff, saddled up beside her, waggling his eyebrows, “he was cute.”
She went to scoff and wave him away, but found that she couldn’t. Her mystery man was cute. Lovely brown eyes, a few inches in height on her (which if she was being honest, wasn’t all that difficult), dark hair along with a dark shadow of a beard on his jaw, and a prominent, interesting nose that was somehow distinctive and at home on his face all at once. On top of that, he came up to her, obviously interested in what she did, and that in itself was incredibly attractive. 
He hadn’t even paused when she threw out her graduate degree, a kind of douche litmus test she’d devised to tell right away who would be too intimidated by her education and who would be cool with it. 
“I know,” she said, a little surprised by her own sincerity.
“Did he get your number?” 
“No.”
“Please tell me you got his. It’s the twenty-first century, girl. You don’t let a man like that pass you by.” 
“He invited me to lunch,” she said, feeling that overwhelming sincerity wash over her again. It was a bold move on his part, making his intentions known right away. She wasn't sure she'd ever been asked out so quickly or decisively. 
“Well, I guess that works,” Rick shrugged, as if to say it wasn’t the route he would have taken.
Twenty five minutes later, Sarah rushed to the front, dodging the local hall so she wouldn’t be pulled away to answer a question, which happened more often than she’d ever anticipated after taking this research position.
He was standing near the entrance, looking at his phone with a kind of studied practice. Like he was trying hard to seem absorbed in whatever he was looking at, but the set of his shoulders made him look like he was bracing himself.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, halting her progress, “I got stuck talking with my research supervisor.” 
He smiled, finally lifting his head, “It’s cool. Glad you didn’t stand me up though.” 
A relieved smile took over her face. “I’m Sarah by the way, I didn't get your name.” 
“Quinn,” he said, extending his hand. 
He’d forgotten to introduce himself. He'd been so caught up in keeping her talking that he forgot the most basic part of polite conversation. Internally, he rolled his eyes. 
A small spark raced up her arm when their hands touched with the formal shake. 
“So,” he shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what else to do with them, “where do you wanna go?”
“Oh, I…” she paused, looking out to the park, “do you have a favorite place?” 
“I'm not down this way much, so I don't really know.”
“Do you like bao?” she asked. 
He just looked at her, so she continued, “they're like dumplings with different things inside. They're Asian. There's a great place just up the street I go to sometimes.”
“I've never had it, but sure?”
Leading the way, Sarah started out of the building in confident strides that spoke of someone who had little time to waste in getting from one point to another. The rain had let up to a light mist that would do little more than dew the grass. 
“So… are you from Vancouver?’ she asked, glancing over at him. He kept pace with her easily. 
“No, I'm kind of from all over, but mostly from Michigan.” 
“Oh, cool. I'm from Nevada.”
“That's a long way for school.”
“Well, it's a bit hard to study the ocean there,” she teased, “being landlocked and all.”
He laughed. “So, you're a student and you do research, what else do you do?”
“I honestly don't have a whole lot more time. Grad school is kind of a joke that way. I hang out with my roommates,” she added, feeling incredibly lame. “What about you? What do you do?”
He cleared his throat. This conversation always went one of two ways. “I play hockey.” 
“Like, for a job?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. 
“Yeah. For the Canucks.” He gestured around himself, acknowledging the city as a whole. 
She looked at him, and he held his breath, hoping his gut reaction wasn’t about to be proven wrong. 
"That must be a wild job.”
A sigh let go in Quinn's chest. “It is. I feel really lucky.”
“So you're what, 20?”
“I hope I look older than that!”
"Sorry," She laughed. "I'm so bad with age. Especially with dudes. The facial hair always throws me off, so I usually aim low.” she said, gesturing to his jaw.
He grinned at her and her heart did a pitter pattery little jig against her ribcage. 
“In any case,” she said, flipping her hands, “aren't all the guys in the NHL really young? Like, you have to be drafted before you're 20 or something?”
“21, technically,” he said, looking very impressed. “Do you follow hockey?”
“Not really, but my roommate is obsessed with the Canucks, so I've picked up a few things." 
Quinn hoped she was the good kind of obsessed. 
“So how old are you then?”
“24. You?” 
“Twenty-six.” 
The guys were going to give him so much shit when they found out he took out another older woman. 
He couldn’t help it. He liked older women. They were more likely to have their lives together in the way he did. It was easier to be himself - a little more serious and quiet than his peers - with older women, who seemed to appreciate those qualities more. 
It seemed he was naturally drawn to someone older, even when his basic instincts took over.
After 10 minutes of walking, they were seated in a cozy little restaurant, and Sarah made sure he was facing the middle, where the chef was assembling the dumplings. 
Quinn looked over the menu, feeling instantly overwhelmed. There were so many things he didn't know here. “What's good?” he asked, trying to calm his nerves. 
Truly, what the hell was he doing? He felt so out of his element. He dated, but never like this. Usually via set up and occasionally from an app, but he always knew something about his date before they met in person. 
This was all his least favorite parts of getting to know someone in a situation that felt too high-stakes. He wasn’t even sure why. Sarah was pretty. Not in the overly stunning instagram pretty way Jack usually favored, but more girl next door kind of pretty, in a way that made him interested to know her more, but he didn't feel intimidated or uncomfortable around her. Something about her tilted him off his axis enough to make him go out of his comfort zone enough to ask her to lunch. For the first time, he found himself thinking, this could really go somewhere, and that scared him shitless.
“Everything I've tried is good. You should at least try the rainbow dumplings. Then you can try all the flavors.”
He nodded and set the menu down. 
“We could split an entree too?” She suggested, sensing his unease. “The dumplings aren't really a total meal.”
“Sure. You pick.”
“Anything you don't like? Any dietary things?” 
Quinn shook his head, “no, I’m off tomorrow, so I’m not watching what I eat.”
They locked eyes over her menu, “do you have to do that a lot?” 
He nodded, “it comes with the territory. Gotta stay in peak condition, you know?” 
She didn’t, but she nodded anyway. 
He took off his cap and nervously ran his hand through his hair before replacing it. His hair was thick and a little wavy, she saw. It made her like him even more. 
After holding eye contact for a beat too long, she tore her eyes away to look at the menu again. “Do you mind if I do something a little weird?” she asked. 
When she dared to meet his eyes again, he was looking at her like he was bracing for something that was going to ruin his whole reputation. 
“I mean with ordering,” she said, laughing. 
“Oh,” Quinn felt his whole body relax, “sure.” 
“Were you worried I was going to ask for pictures of your feet or something?” 
Laughter burst out of his mouth, splitting his face into a natural, easy smile that suited him. The childish scrunch to his nose coupled with the wide, sure-of-himself smile made him look somehow younger and older at the same time.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit.” 
“I can’t even imagine,” she said, laughing. 
The waiter came up to the table then. 
Sarah glanced at Quinn, a smile still playing on her lips.
“You order,” he said, feeling childish. 
“We’ll have two orders of the rainbow dumplings, and whatever main dish you want to bring us.” 
Quinn choked a little on the water he was drinking. 
“Just no seafood.” 
The waiter nodded, like this wasn’t an unusual request, “spice level?” 
Sarah looked to Quinn for guidance. 
“Mild,” he said. 
“Mild, then.” 
“No allergies?” 
Sarah shook her head, and the waiter walked away. 
“Do you do that a lot?” he asked. 
“Sometimes. I have a friend who does it every time we go out. It’s a great way to try new things.” 
“And no seafood?” he asked, “has your work turned you away from it?” 
“No, not really, but I only get it if it’s sustainably sourced, and I didn’t want to have a whole conversation over who their seafood supplier is, and most waiters don't know that stuff anyway, so it’s just easier to say none.” 
Their conversation slipped into a silence that wasn't completely uncomfortable. 
“So,” she said, starting to fiddle with the things on the table, a soy sauce decanter and a square ceramic container with a tiny spoon in it. “Tell me more about yourself.” 
“Like what?”
“Like,” she paused, filtering through the questions that raced through her head, “what's your favorite movie?”
“Star Wars.”  
“Which one?”
“I like all of the original trio, but probably The Empire Strikes Back most.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. 
“Why?”
“Oh, I dated a guy a while ago who told me his favorite Star Wars movie was The Phantom Menace and I almost broke up with him on the spot.”
Quinn laughed. 
“What's your favorite?”
“Oh, I have so many,” she said, “For Star Wars: A New Hope. Overall, it kind of depends on the day, but I have some go-to comfort movies, like any of the original Marvel movies, Lord of the Rings, and this chick flick called In Her Shoes I used to watch a lot with my mom.”
Feeling more and more like he really had won the lottery, Quinn smiled at her. It was strange to think a girl like this existed and had been existing in the same city as him for some time. A woman that was cute and curvy and had so many of the qualities he always said he was looking for. Passionate about what she was doing, didn't take herself too seriously, was a bit of a nerd like he was, but not too nerdy, didn’t want to date him for clout or money.
People in his life had often wondered if the list was too long to find in a real person. He'd started to wonder the same thing over the past few months. Part of it was that it felt easier to have a long list so he didn’t have to worry about looking for someone while he was so busy. He'd always figured he'd meet someone later on in his career or even after it was done. Then he would have the time to dedicate to dating and marriage. 
Despite all that, here Sarah was, smiling at him over a lunch table like fate had just dropped her into his life. 
Their food came and they continued talking. Sarah could tell he was a quiet guy, always taking time to think before he spoke. Despite that, she didn't feel like she was carrying the conversation. It was a pleasant surprise for a first date. 
At one point, Quinn looked so lost at how to eat the dumplings that she took pity on him and gave him the instructional card from the table. “I was lost when I first came here, too,” she assured. 
When they finished, and Quinn had shut down her offer to pay for half of the food, she glanced at her watch, surprised to find that it was already 2:05. Their conversation had been so consistent and comfortable, she hadn’t realized how much time had passed. 
“Oh, shit,” she said. “I’m sorry. I have to get back.” 
“I’ll walk with you,” he said, standing and putting  a cash tip on the table. 
Sarah felt a little dizzy. Everything felt so sudden, like Karma had finally noticed all her pain and delivered her something good for a change. She’d gotten so used to slogging along, enjoying what she was doing, but not really looking forward to the future with any big hope or optimism. The sudden change had her reeling.
When they got back to the Aquarium, Quinn stopped at the entrance, tucking himself behind one of the pillars to provide a little more privacy. 
“I, uh,” he found himself saying. How did you end a date with a woman you were beginning to feel might just be your soulmate? 
“I had a really nice time,” she said. 
“Yeah, me too.”
He leaned in, trying to gauge if she wanted to be kissed, or if a hug would put him too much in the friend-zone. His brothers probably would have chastised him for not going in for the kiss right away, but the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. 
They did a short, awkward dance, neither knowing what, exactly, to do. It struck Sarah as the most uncomfortable thing on their date thus far. 
Finally, she took charge and wrapped her arms around his neck in an embrace. 
 Quinn sighed as he gathered her against him. 
His willingness to wait for her to dictate the level of physicality they shared ticked another box on her list. She wouldn’t have minded kissing him, but the fact that he respected that boundary right off the bat had game show-winner bells ringing in her mind. 
“I know you have to go, but can I get your number?” he asked, stepping back from the embrace, letting his left hand linger on her hip.
She giggled a little, thinking what a weird formality it was that he had to ask at this point. She gave him her number and he texted to make sure it was right. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, showing him. 
“I’ll see you later?” she asked. looking up into his face. She wasn’t surprised to find the same hope she felt reflected back at her. 
He glanced at her lips before meeting her eyes again, “yeah.”
Another glance at her watch had her stepping back from him. “I’m sorry, I’m late,” she said, turning away before turning back at the last second and brushing her lips over his cheek. “See you later.” 
He watched her run down the hall before turning around and heading back home, feeling like he could stomach an evening alone with Sarah on his mind. 
Later that night, studying in her room, Sarah finally pulled her phone from her backpack and typed out the message that had been pulling at her thoughts all day, making it impossible to really focus on anything else.
Some of her friends, she knew, would tell her she was putting too much out there too soon. Perhaps she was, but losing her mom had given her a fuck that attitude to many things - not expressing her true feelings being one of them. If it scared him off, that would tell her all she needed to know. 
She hit send, hoping she wasn’t wrong. 
Quinn was in his own apartment, not really paying attention to the Devils-Hurricanes game playing, mostly trying to figure out when it would be okay to text her. With the way everything had gone that day, he felt like any time would be the right time. The anxious part of his mind battled against that thought, worried about coming on too strong or seeming needy and messing things up. 
He pulled his phone out, finally deciding that he should just say something. 
It dinged in his hand, and her name flashed across his screen. Shocked, he dropped the phone and had to fish it out from under the couch before he could read her message. 
Thank you for today. You were such a welcome surprise. 
It was so heartfelt, he sat on the floor between the couch and coffee table for a while, re-reading their conversation.  
This is Quinn. 
Thank you for today. You were such a welcome surprise. 
The embarrassingly earnest part of him wanted to tell her all he was feeling, but he knew it was too soon to tell her he thought they could go the distance. It was too soon for him to be voicing those things to himself. He didn’t really even know her. Yet.
Sarah watched his text bubble appear and disappear several times before she clicked off her screen, unable to watch.
Her heart was rioting in her chest. Yes, fuck that, but also if he proved her wrong, she knew she would be crying herself to sleep. 
Finally - finally her phone buzzed. Hands shaking, she struggled to unlock it, eventually having to put her code in twice before it worked. His message slid onto the screen, and she released the breath she’d been holding. 
I feel the same way. I can’t wait to see you again.
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist
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kalegreeneyes · 1 year ago
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Feb 1 - Chocolate - 971 words - @wolfstarmicrofic
“I don’t think you understand how important this is,” Sirius stresses, hands fisting in his own hair and pulling at it in his frustration.
“Why does Moony’s birthday present matter so much this year?” James asks, flopping back on his bed in their dorm while he watches Sirius pace.
“Because it just does okay? It does,” Sirius groans, spinning in place to continue pacing in the opposite direction.
It matters so much to Sirius this year because he finally cast his patronus about a month ago and hasn’t told anyone about it. It matters because he’s finally realized why Moony is different to him than Prongs and Wormtail. When he holed himself up in the room of requirement and ran through his happiest memories until he managed to finally, finally land on one that worked, it just so happened to be the one of Remus's face when they told him about having become animagi for him. He had looked right at Sirius like he just knew it was his idea, and the look of sheer awe on his face had made Sirius feel more important than he ever had in his entire life. So, Sirius had focused on that look in his mind’s eye until the feeling it gave him filled his entire body and burst from the tip of his wand. Sirius had watched with amazement as what he initially thought was a dog, namely Padfoot, started running in the air around the room. Then, it got a bit closer, and Sirius’s heart had nearly given out when he realized that it wasn’t Padfoot at all. It was Moony.
Sirius’s entire world shifted on its axis in that moment. He knew there was something different; something that kept him up at night more frequently than not, something that had him staring at Remus whenever he got the chance–but he just hadn’t put it together. He hadn’t even considered that he could like other blokes until then, but as the light of the patronus faded and left Sirius cast in dim candlelight, it was glaringly obvious that not only could he, he did. So, naturally, he’s spent the entire past month panicking and trying desperately to figure out if there’s any chance at all that Remus could feel the same. It’s made things weird. Very weird. He’s come to the conclusion that he has to rip the bandaid off and show Remus his patronus, but he’s absolutely terrified that it might ruin their friendship. 
“I have something…special for him,” Sirius explains, keeping it vague, “but I’m worried that it might ruin his birthday. And everything else, so. I don’t know what to get him as a back-up present just in case the first thing goes horribly wrong, and it’s tomorrow, and I’m freaking the fuck out!”
“I’ve noticed,” James chuckles unhelpfully. “I don’t really know how to help if you won’t tell me what you’re giving him that might ruin his birthday? But, I mean, you could give it to him on another day?”
“NO! I can’t! It’s kind of a big deal, so it obviously has to be on his birthday!”
“Alright, well. I can’t help you there, but I do have a solid solution for his back-up present,” James smirks, holding up the invisibility cloak in one hand and the Marauders’ Map in the other.
*****
Remus follows Sirius through the doorway into the room of requirement long after everyone else has gone to bed on the night of his birthday, feeling a bit nervous and a lot confused. Sirius has been treating him strangely for the entire past month, and Remus hasn’t been able to get any sense of why. It isn’t like he can become an illegal animagus for him a second time. 
They walk into the center of the open space the room created for them, a few couches and flickering candelabras around the outside of the inner circle where Sirius stops to stand across from him. Sirius just stands there biting his lip and wringing his hands until Remus can’t take it anymore.
“Sirius, why did you bring me here?” he asks, frustration slipping into his tone. It’s been a hard month of not knowing what’s going on.
“I just- I wanted to give you your present, but it had to be in private,” Sirius starts. He swallows harshly, uncertainty apparent in his gaze. “Before I show you, I just want you to know that this doesn’t have to change anything.”
“Okay?” Remus says cautiously.
“Okay. Okay, here goes,” Sirius says on a deep breath, then holds his wand out and closes his eyes. After a few moments, the stunning blue light of a patronus pours out of his wand and fills the room. Remus blinks a few times to adjust, watching dumbfoundedly as the unmistakable form of a wolf sprints over his head. His heart starts hammering in his chest as he brings his gaze back down to Sirius, standing there across from him, looking small and scared.
“Is that–?” Remus asks. Sirius bites his lip and nods with a thick swallow. 
Remus is across the room in a split second, hands on either side of Sirius’s face to pull him into a kiss that was a long time coming. Time stands still for them both, and they’re breathless when they pull away.
“I never could have guessed,” Remus laughs against his mouth. “I thought your present was going to be something normal, like-”
“Chocolate?” Sirius asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and pulling out two full handfuls of chocolate frogs.
Remus laughs and laughs, taking them out of his hands. The next time they kiss, sprawled out on one of the couches five minutes later, Remus could swear that the taste of chocolate has never been sweeter.
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xxwelxx · 6 months ago
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OK IM FINALLY GONNA ATTEMPT TO EXPLAIN MY UNDERSTANDING OF THE WHITE DAY LORE
If something doesn’t make sense, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m sure it’ll be all over the place.
I’ll do claims then evidence (or rather headcanons + inspo)
I’ve decided to release these in parts because there’s a lot of information and I can’t neatly put them together coz I stink. So this is mostly about WD 1 and 2 with a sprinkle of 3.
1. WD 1 and 2 are part of the same kingdom, 3 is a different one.
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As you can see, there is a common symbol. The sun is present in the first 2 sets.
Rui is obviously the kingdom’s sorcerer, The emblem on his belt is the same one as almost every WD 1 card. He is the only person in WD 2 to feature a sun, but Toya is the only person in WD 2 to feature a rose.
These 2 connections are enough to connect WD 1 and 2. Everything else from there you can notice similarities in uniforms. WD 3 has absolutely no connections besides Mafuyu.
I want to say everyone besides Rui in WD2 is part of the ‘Dragon Force’. Saki doesn’t have a dragon emblem from what we can see, but her uniform looks similar to the rest of the set. She also has dragon scaly looking hair ties,, thats so cool,,. I suspect her emblem is on her waist belt or something. Kaito, I need to get into more later. His connections to the first kingdom are a lot more loose than everyone else’s.
2. WD 2 is a group that go against the kingdom.
First we need to establish the sense of betrayal, and we can, all thanks to Rui. The name of his outfit is “The Mad Sorcerer” which could imply one of 2 things: He’s always been a mad sorcerer, or something recently tipped him off the edge.
For the sake of connecting everything in a more dramatic story, I’ll say it’s the latter.
Along with every other card in WD 2, Rui sticks out like a sore thumb. Why is he lumped in with everyone like that?
Simple, they needed a magic caster.
Whaatt? Am I gonna get into how I think the magic in this world works? Bit by bit ya, for now let’s just say you can cast spells on/enchant jewelry. (It makes the soldiers look very fashionable waoww!!)
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Magic can look like a bunch of colors for different reasons. But focusing on RED, you can see it everywhere in WD2. That’s really important, because the only other place “red magic jewelry” is seen is on Tsukasa, Mafuyu, and Kanade.
Rui’s magic is clearly red. It makes sense his enchanted items would also be red. Miku, Saki and Kaito each have one super tiny earring/pin. Toya has an enchanted sword (and by the looks of it, more than one type of magic was used on it, goodness gracious that sword is so extra) a pin connecting to the rose, and a super tiny earring.
For reasons I will make clear later, Toya is of a higher status, therefore the kingdom has issued him a protection charm of sorts that is a more prominent part of his uniform (as opposed to an earring that can be added whenever.) If we were to assume that Tsukasa is also of a high status, the enchanted red rose would also make sense. It is an integral element of his uniform, meaning we can guess it was asked of the royal sorcerer when tsks’ uniform was being made.
The reason I’m able to distinguish Toya and Tsukasa as high ranking is because of the red cloth things that stand out.
For Tsukasa it’s a sash, for Toya, a one shouldered cape.
The fact that Rui also has a red sash type thing just solidifies to me that he’s the royal sorcerer. The way the red magicy looking things we’ve established as enchanted feel so intentional on the uniform. It was made with him in mind, I doubt he modified it himself.
Mafuyu and Kanade will be brought up again later.
As for the main point I was trying to make, there is a clear connection between everyone in this set, meaning someone within WD2 recruited Rui to aid in whatever plot they were devising.
Suspects include: Saki, Miku, Kaito, Toya and Rui himself.
Let’s inspect the cards closer.
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Toya’s card has a dragon, and a castle and black ashy particles that I will assume has something to do with the dragon (technically it’s a wyvern, also I named them Rose for funsies coz Idk their actual name.)
Rui seems to be in a castle’s courtyard with bricks just about to come loose from the power of the magic.
Miku seems to be overseeing a celebration from the window of an abandoned building. (Or one that was recently fought in, though the tattered curtain tells me it’s faced more weather damage than being roughed up)
Saki is a 2* 😞
And Kaito.
KAITO.
The ash, its back.
EXAMINE THE BACKGROUND CLOSER.
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It looks like an old abandoned library that’s fallen victim to the sands of time. BUT LOOK CLOSER
That candelabrum on the left looks melted. There is ash. Everything looks like it was burnt to a crisp or just severely roughed up.
That smile.. his earring has a lot more attention drawn to it than any other character in ANY set.
The GUN????!?? Like okay. I know they weren’t gonna be historically accurate, they were mixing a lot of historical things up, not to mention a whole dragon and a sorcerer. But a GUN is just very unthinkable. That came out of nowhere.
Tbh WD2 is full of surprises
The first one was like YAY kingdom fantasy au they’re all soldiers
The second they stepped it up and said DRAGON SORCERER AND GUN
The third one they were like YAYY TRANS PEOPLE AND LESBIANS
anyways back to what I was saying..
I think you can tell by now I think it’s Kaito. There is nothing else besides gloves, a jacket, a belt and a badge that connect him to this kingdom. All of these are accessories that can be acquired easily and don’t seem to be part of any solid official looking uniform.
Bringing back WD1 for a second, every single one of those cards seem to be in different battalions, indicated by the patterns seen throughout.
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Hearts, Stars, Shields, Thorns, and Crest of the kingdom.
Btw roses means part of the army. (Saki’s rose is either hidden or the pattern on her cape)
According to the names of the outfits and my abysmal excuse of research, Mizuki would ride a horse, Akito would lead a cause, and tsukasa is chivalrous..
So based on that knowledge:
The lack of stars on Mizuki [(and len) i lied, len has very faint stars] tells me they are not in a position of power. And the hearts tell me they are part of a heart division (or whatever an appropriate army term would be). Perhaps it’s a small group, but Mizuki themself does not lead.
Meaning Shiho, Akito, and Tsukasa do.
Akito Leads a Battalion or division or brigade or whatever man 😭😭
And Shiho trains the newbies (thats so awesome) I can tell because Len is a squire and these 2 are the only ones with thorn details.
So if Tsukasa is a lieutenant that oversees most of these divisions, the fact that he doesn’t have thorns anywhere on his person means he doesn’t train the newbies. I guess he’s too busy being chivalrous. He also doesn’t have the dragon force emblem. That’s a special case n Toya’s already fully in charge of that.
You would not believe how long this took me to decode. I think I also for Shiho and Len, the Kingdom’s crest is SOMEWHERE on their person, ik it kinda shows on Len, but Shiho is a mystery. (Rui and Saki also adorn the kingdom’s crest on their person) also also, saki has a star on her uniform. I suspect this is because the dragon force is a small group. So while she is pretty important, she’s still not super high up.
Tangent over, back to Kaito.
All that being said. When you take a closer look at Kaito, sure he has the fashion, but the kingdom’s crest is NOWHERE to be seen. This is not an official uniform.
Miku on the other hand, seems to have a normal dragon force uniform. Black, white, red, badge. But not a rose in sight.
These two are imposters from another dimension DUN DUN DUN.
(Idk man, I’m just trying to make it interesting while giving my own au something to work off of)
So if I’m trying to imply that the vocaloids are imposters, where does that leave Len? Mwehehe secret for the story.
There’s a lot of room for betrayal here. I also appreciate how the betrayal set is all the people closest to Tsukasa. You got his 2 main vocaloids, his siblings and his director. Haha, good luck man o7
3. Card rarity.
the rarer the card, the higher their position (the faces of the events being highest of all). I did most of the talking for this in the previous point
This further pushes the vocaloids as other worldly entities agenda coz SAKI HAS A STAR, BUT THE DRAGON FORCE VOCALOIDS HAVE NO INDICATION OF LEADERSHIP AT ALL.
Scary
I probably should have mentioned that before but oh well,,,
Anyways that’s it for part 1, part two is likely going to be much shorter than this, but still impactful. Do what you will with this information :] ask me questions please it might lead me to new revelations.
AGHHHHH
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areseebee · 2 months ago
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Who am I to turn down the chance to get some more writing out of you? 😉
How about a little bit of Jerin with "21. pretty"? Bonus points if it's Erin thinking James is pretty rather than the other way around
ohh i love it! here's a little bit set during katya and erin’s confrontation on the stairs at jenny joyce’s house in 1x04 :
“He attractive boy, Erin,” Katya drawls at the top of Jenny Joyce’s stairs, gesturing wearily. Well, Erin’s fucking weary, too. They’ve had this conversation, like, ten times over the past two days and Erin can only attribute it to Katya’s broken English and maybe a wee bit too much radiation because Katya still doesn’t seem to get it. Obviously James is attractive. That’s really not the point. He’s even a little pretty, if you wanted to put a finer point on it (which Erin isn’t very inclined to do – though it would certainly explain why everyone keeps mistaking him for a girl; he’s just got delicate features, like. And very, very green eyes). Katya is so not the first person to notice, and it’s really starting to make Erin rage the way she pretends she is. Because she’s not; Erin’s one-upped her there, and she’s stopped herself nearly 50 times from saying so just so she can rub it in Katya’s big, dumb, Ukrainian face. But some people have principles, and for some people it doesn’t matter that maybe their best friend’s cousin could be a ride (maybe if he sat up a little straighter and, like, didn’t whinge so much), because, at the end of the day, he’s English. But Katya doesn’t have a care about any of it – not about fraternising with oppressors, or deflowering innocent young men, or chasing what she wants so brazenly without a care for what anyone else thinks. Who just lives like that? Erin really can’t imagine; only criminals, probably. Erin’s retort – “He’s English, Katya” – comes effortlessly because that’s the only really necessary explanation. None of the rest of it matters – not the one little curl that likes to come loose and soft around his ear, or the way he kinda looks like Dexter Fletcher from the side if you squint, or when he’d tried to talk to her about Samuel Beckett after he’d learned she liked his writing, or how he’d looked so content with Katya’s hand in his hair and at his jaw. It doesn’t matter what Erin might ever possibly want or not. That’s just the way it is.
as i was writing this, i was surprised to find that i had already written almost this exact same take - erin thinking about james being pretty - for this prompt (i guess i didn't properly link before!) but it has an entirely different vibe. i'm linking it here for a little extra: pretty, version 1.
cranberries ask game
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lmk-aus-galore · 8 months ago
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Cinema Sins/Wins Rip Off of Lego Monkie Kid.
Yeah yeah I’m back folks, I just decided to take a looong break.
Inspired by @satansaidmyturnintheh3||scape
Rules:
-I won't be counting Animation Mistakes, because Idk how to do that, and I myself am a beginner animator (more like incredibly amateur, to the point I'm asking my sister for help) Unless of course the Animation is obviously and clearly having a mistake for me to watch.(Or it is said in the wiki) The other reason is because I don't want to keep repeating a scene just to check for an animation mistake.
-!This is mostly for entertainment purposes, sorry if I sound too mean!
-I also won't be counting flashbacks as 'mistakes' because most of them are based on bias.
-I'll be formatting it like this
-Neutral
-Sin
-Win
Let’s get started.
——————————————-
-Intro.
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._.
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-Love how you can see where Mei, Sandy and MK are in this scene.
-On the other hand why does Pigsy have a random game machine beside his shop? I know there are apartment buildings on top of said shop but in Season 2 he actively has authority to remove it.
-Secondly is MK currently on break at the moment or is he just, ‘slacking off’ judging by his clothes he should be currently working.
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-Dragon Horse and Stone Monkey.
-Ah yes the underrated trio. Sandy, Mei and MK. Please tell me this group has a name.
-Bad time to call your daughter.
-The way Mei is so nervous to talk to her mother and the way she talks as if her mother doesn’t even give her enough time to explain, like I think Mei’s Mother is cutting her off at times here and it’s not really okay. It feels like Mei is talking to her boss than her Mom.
-Sandy for the win.
-The finishing move is a spin of the staff and a hit to the leg…wow MK.
-I really love how Sandy is just casually friends with these guys. Like these guys just met Sandy a few weeks ago and all of a sudden they said ‘Let’s be friends’
-Ok MK you should really get social cues…or at least let Mei get a word in-
-‘I always wanted to see Mei’s secret Dragon House full of secret Dragon stuff’ makes me wonder why no one believes in the Monkey King stories. Either that or why Mei isn’t being worshipped like a deity by now.
-Also MK, kinda creepy…but to be fair Mei put cameras on all of you…
-BRO THIS BULL CLONE HAS EVERYTHING ON HER?!
-Why does this Bull Clone pull out the same Two Pictures twice?
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-Mei doesn’t smile in her photo, along with the rest of her family :(
-In fact she looks kinda restricted.
-Also Key detail, looks like Mei’s little green hair things are dyed!
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-PIF confirms that Sha Wujing’s spear and Zhu Bajie’s rake are Celestial Weapons that later tie into Season 4
-We also have the Calabash, PIF’s fan, Wukong’s staff, Nezha’s spear and two of the Samadhi Fire Rings…though I think by this time of development this probably is Nezha’s little ring thingys in his shoes? Not really sure. The only one we don’t know about is the unidentified sword and the random rope.
-Also is she implying that her own fan is a powerful artifact? I guess that makes sense…?
-Why does PIF’s animation always stretch her or squish her I can’t take her seriously XD worse that it’s usually the face.
-Mei wanting to be a normal child is so sad. On the other hand why don’t we have more fanfics of Mei and her family dynamic? Come on people the angst is right there!
-When you think about it, the High-Tech security might’ve been the reason Mei became the ‘Tech Girl’ in the group. Since her family dabbles in High-Technology it’s only obvious she grew curious of that stuff.
-On the other note, what’s with Ancient families and suddenly getting a grasp at handling High-Technology? Like bro Red Son and Mei have so many parallels to each other it’s insane.
-MEI THIS IS WHY YOU DONT LEAVE THE DOOR OPEN.
-You know Red Son you might need to double down in calling Mei a peasant because uhh…wow, the place is huge.
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-Mei’s room doesn’t have a door, which shows how shitty these people actually are.
-Also Mei has a lot of rock aesthetic posters, including one with a spider meaning Mei canonically had a rock phase. That or a goth phase so goth Mei is probably canon.
-Why I thought of rock is because of the two sets of guitars she has, one being an electric guitar.
-Mei also has a skateboard indicating she used to skate.
-She has an indoor TV with two game controllers (Why didn’t they just play in her bedroom?)
-And finally she has some things I think her parents would’ve given her such has the pony statue and the meditation carpet on the floor.
-Also apparently she plays the piano? Or is that even a piano?
-The legend of Mei’s sword is kinda cool actually.
-WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH IT?! HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO GETS TO WEILD IT THEN?!
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-I have a feeling I know why no one has been able to hold that sword in like…ever (They all look so mean)
-‘You two boot up the old TV!’ What TV? There is literally no TV there? Is there a TV off-screen? Even so where would you put said TV? And again, why not your room?
-MK control your strength- how the hell does that even happen?
-Bull Clone literally just yeeted his hat at him.
-Said Bull Clone took the precious Dragon Sword despite the fact that he was struggling to get it off the statue
-Mei calls her Motorcycle like a horse, get it? Dragon Horse?
-Okay now I don’t blame MK I think that pinball machine is old. BECAUSE HOW DOES THAT JUST HAPPEN?!
-Mei this house should at LEAST take up a whole acre, HOW BIG IS YOUR HOUSE?!
-Mei fixing her bike is while she is chasing the Bull Clone is badass as hell. We do not talk about her enough.
-Pro tip: Never mess with Mei.
-This is why we need to give this family some doubt, okay if literally all her ancestors are dissing her and insulting her to her face because of the way she acts then maybe you shouldn’t turn a blind eye.
-‘You know what I am part of this family! I am Mei! Descendant of the Great Dragon of the West Sea, this is mine! And this is my House!” You go girl, show these guys a what you’re made of!
-A very good take on Mei accepting who she is despite her family’s expectations on her. She’s part of the family but she knows that she needs to stand up for herself. Good bravo.
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-IS IT JUST ME OR IS THAT THING BIGGER THAN NORMAL?!
-I wonder what the parents’ reaction was, Holy cow this might’ve been QUITE the sight.
-Yep that Bull Clone is straight up dead.
-MK I think that machine is really just old.
-Lol, Sandy making sure MK doesn’t lose focus.
-‘Somebody forgot our luggage’ then she stares directly at the dad and said dad doesn’t give a damn.
-The fact that Mei has to apologize first before getting praised is messed up as hell. If someone is trying to steal a really powerful relic such as that, then obviously it’s gonna be chaos, but the fact she has to apologize first before they acknowledge she did something good is messed up.
-But to be fair I think they do love Mei, really, but the way they parent just icks me.
-And Mei’s mom sounds like she pulled that whole talk out from google.
-Mei’s dad sounds…familiar hold up-
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-KNEW I HEARD THAT VOICE SOMEWHERE. (Also apparently Mei’s mom is the same VA as Mei, so Stephanie Steph is just talking to herself)
-Poor MK…
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ryuichirou · 10 months ago
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Replies
More replies about the girlies…! And about the Leech parents.
Anonymous asked:
So it’s from AA cup to F cup?
Judging by how they ended up looking, I guess it’s from AAA to FF lol
I am kind of bad at cup sizes though, and also bad at consistency, but at least that was the idea!
Anonymous asked:
How big are the cup sizes of the other genderswapped twst characters (I.e. the staff, Neige, Chenya, Rollo)
I actually talked about their cup sizes as well as what type of bra they would wear in this reply!
But to update: now I think that Crewel is an A and Trein is a C. I don’t know, just feel like it, maybe it’s because of Cruella and Lady Tremaine lol
Also here are those who I didn’t mention: Vargas is easily the biggest one out of the staff, so around D (+wears a sports bra, naturally); Sam isn’t big, somewhere between A and B, and doesn’t usually wear a bra; Crowley is a C… she just is. I can’t really explain any of this lol  
Anonymous asked:
Why does it look like fem Ace and Deuce are scissoring each other?
They always are���constantly…even though they’re bad at it…
They aren’t on this sketch though, but maybe Ace suggested it, that would explain Deuce’s reaction lol
Anonymous asked:
When you’re so thirsty, you grabbing your own boob *eyeballs floyd* On a serious note, I can’t get over how well you draw breasts. I get mad just drawing them under clothes 😔
Yeah, Floyd is probably the one to do that all the time without even thinking about it. She likes to squeeze lol
Also, thank you very much, Anon! I don’t draw them very often, so I am very happy to hear that you like how they look. Looking at tons of pictures and art (R18 obviously included hehe) and sketching helped me a lot…
Anonymous asked:
women...... you draw them so fine omfg
Thank youuuu 🥰 I love them
Anonymous asked:
I love the size, shape, and little difference between each woman. Not only in the pretty 👀 but in body shape and hair situation as well. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful (and dangerous) garden!
Thank you so much, Anon!
I am very excited to share, I’ve been thinking about them for so long before actually finally drawing them all… so it means a lot to hear that you like them <3
Anonymous asked:
was looking back through my liked posts and I saw your drawings of meleanor, and of some of the other twst extras, and it made me curious since now that book 7 is coming out in english will you be drawing more or the new characters like prince Levan, or the knight of dawns? Also a bit of a self-indulgent ask because I want to see sebeks hot ass grandfather in your artstyle :>
We don’t play the game, Anon, so the EN release doesn’t really concern us; we haven’t watched book 7 yet at all.
But when we do, I’m pretty sure I will draw at least some of the characters from it! Definitely more Meleanor and definitely Sebek’s grandpa because how fucking dares he be voiced by Koyasu of all people. I kind of wanted to draw him even before that point (just like Meleanor, I couldn’t resist, to be honest lol), but didn’t really have time for him…
Anonymous asked:
do you have any more leech parents thoughts or possible scenarios?
+
Anonymous asked:
I like to think that papa Leech would also be quite happy with Vil, even though admittedly this is based entirely on a headcanon. Since the boys found out in a vignette that one of his favorite movies has Eric Venue starring in it, I like the idea that papa Leech became a big fan of him. I guess this means that more than liking Vil himself (although he is very charming in his own right), he would like the chance to get closer to his favorite actor through their kids relationship
To the first Anon, I’m sorry for the late reply, I’ll share more thoughts in a moment. Starting with the Vil scenario!
I agree with you, second Anon! We talked about it in this reply, but very briefly.
Whether it’s Jade or Floyd who brings Vil to their house, Papa Leech is going to be super excited because he’d recognise the boy instantly. Somehow, their dinner with the Leech parents would end up looking more like a handshake event lol With Papa Leech asking a lot of questions about Eric and stuff. Even if Vil isn’t dating any of his sons, just the fact that he is their senpai would make Papa Leech super excited. Mama Leech would probably apologise for his behavior, but not in a genuine way, but just to make the situation even more awkward for Vil. Thank god Vil knows how to handle it… probably… maybe…
Vil would also make such a pretty betta merman…
But ALSO!!! If Floyd or Jade (or both) bring Idia to meet their parents, Idia would be absolutely terrified; he would be terrified either way, but the Leech parents are especially intimidating and scary. But they would love him a lot! Not only because he is the Shroud’s oldest boy (connections are important), but because of how his demeanor and his frankly exciting sparkly look. They would stare at him without blinking, showering him with attention. And they would tease him a lot, maybe even more that they would tease Riddle. Because Riddle is just an overly serious baby, but Idia? He is so visibly uncomfortable and scared; teasing him is absolutely priceless. Papa Leech would sit very close to him and look very intimidating, maybe touch his hair, ask him what he is so scared of. Ask about which one of their sons Idia likes the most (neither… please let him go…), a lot of other questions that sound like “there is no correct answer, you are screwed either way, but I am having fun, so you’ll at least survive maybe”. And then Mama Leech would tell Papa Leech not to freak out this poor boy, start stroking Idia’s hand, talk to him in a sweet motherly tone that doesn’t sound even remotely comforting. Somehow… these two are even worse than Jade and Floyd…
A couple of very short HCs!
Mama Leech is a huge gossip. She knows everything about everyone.
Mama Leech doesn’t cook, but it’s a secret, because she wants to keep the image of a perfect traditional wife.
Papa Leech used to operate on land too when he was younger. He still does sometimes, but very rarely.
Papa Leech thinks Azul is a great influence on his boys and wants them to learn everything they could from this friendship before getting rid of him (if he stops being such a great influence).
While the family bond is strong, the entire Leech family is aware that one of them might betray the rest at any given moment. That doesn’t mean that they don’t cherish family tradition and history.
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