#i love that they both actually watched and researched each other's work
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pluckyredhead · 22 hours ago
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for the snippet commentary ask:
[But there were some weeks that Roy moved a little slower, talked a little softer. Weeks that he poked at the food on his plate, listless and uninterested. Jason knew those were the times that the past reared up inside of Roy and awakened cravings that no food could satisfy.
It wasn’t physiological, Jason knew. He’d done plenty of research on addiction: first as a grieving child searching for ways he could have saved his mother, if only he’d known how, and then again when he and Roy had started living out of each other’s pockets. It wasn’t the ghost of heroin a decade past curbing Roy’s appetite. It was just depression, as if that “just” made it any less pernicious.
They were in one of Jason’s safe houses in Gotham, and the black cloud had been hanging over Roy’s head for days. Now it was nearly two p.m., and Roy was still in bed. Neither of them were early risers, given the late night demands of the vigilante lifestyle, but this was late even for them.
Jason frowned into the open pantry. Roy had barely eaten anything yesterday. “Nothing tastes good right now,” he’d said with a shrug when Jason had pressed.
Jason took out flour, baking powder, and salt, and got to work.
Maybe it was the smell that finally coaxed Roy out of his room, or maybe it was just good timing, but he emerged right as Jason was turning the first piece over to cook on the other side.
“Is that fry bread?” Roy asked, sounding bewildered.
“Sit down,” Jason said. Roy obeyed, watching him in silence as the oil sizzled in the pan.
When the bread was golden on both sides, Jason laid it out on paper towels to drain and sprinkled it generously with cinnamon sugar. He carefully put a second piece in the oil before bringing the plate over to Roy.
“I can’t believe you made fry bread,” Roy said, a little line between his brows. “I haven’t had this since I was a kid.”
Jason knew that. Roy had reminisced enough times about burning his fingers on fry bread right out of the pan that Jason could picture it: little Roy, big-eared and sunburned, fingers and cheeks sticky with cinnamon sugar or honey as he angled for another piece.
But all he said was “You gonna eat it or what?”]
IT SAID 500 WORDS OR LESS & I EXPLOITED THAT I KNOWWWWW i just love this entire part soooo much tho
Lol taxing the ask character count to the UTMOST, I respect it!
But there were some weeks that Roy moved a little slower, talked a little softer. Weeks that he poked at the food on his plate, listless and uninterested. Jason knew those were the times that the past reared up inside of Roy and awakened cravings that no food could satisfy.
My inspiration for Roy's depression comes mostly from this heartbreaking page in Outsiders #45 (2003 series):
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(The other major source is, of course, his attempt at suicide by Killer Croc in RHATO.)
Roy is an extrovert who is very very good at masking, so the fact that he's even letting Jason see the depression - something he doesn't do for anyone else but Dinah and arguably Dick, although that was more PTSD than depression - is significant all on its own. He can let his guard down with Jason.
It wasn’t physiological, Jason knew. He’d done plenty of research on addiction: first as a grieving child searching for ways he could have saved his mother, if only he’d known how, and then again when he and Roy had started living out of each other’s pockets. It wasn’t the ghost of heroin a decade past curbing Roy’s appetite. It was just depression, as if that “just” made it any less pernicious.
Jason, meanwhile, is going to quietly do research on addiction and recovery and never actually say anything out loud to Roy. (Fun fact: Ollie did this in canon. What's that thing about how we gravitate to partners who are similar to our parents?)
They were in one of Jason’s safe houses in Gotham, and the black cloud had been hanging over Roy’s head for days. Now it was nearly two p.m., and Roy was still in bed. Neither of them were early risers, given the late night demands of the vigilante lifestyle, but this was late even for them. Jason frowned into the open pantry. Roy had barely eaten anything yesterday. “Nothing tastes good right now,” he’d said with a shrug when Jason had pressed.
Some of this may also be related to my own experiences with depression, as someone who usually loves food.
Jason took out flour, baking powder, and salt, and got to work. Maybe it was the smell that finally coaxed Roy out of his room, or maybe it was just good timing, but he emerged right as Jason was turning the first piece over to cook on the other side. “Is that fry bread?” Roy asked, sounding bewildered. “Sit down,” Jason said. Roy obeyed, watching him in silence as the oil sizzled in the pan. When the bread was golden on both sides, Jason laid it out on paper towels to drain and sprinkled it generously with cinnamon sugar. He carefully put a second piece in the oil before bringing the plate over to Roy.
I've never actually had fry bread so I read a bunch of recipes and watched some YouTube tutorials, trying to find recipes from Navajo cooks especially. Now I really want it but I'm intimidated by deep frying.
I always write Roy with a sweet tooth, hence Jason going for a cinnamon sugar finish instead of savory. Also, I love writing Roy catching Jason doing An Affection and Jason retreating behind grumpily barking orders. NO ONE CAN KNOW THAT HE LOVES ROY. ESPECIALLY NOT ROY.
“I can’t believe you made fry bread,” Roy said, a little line between his brows. “I haven’t had this since I was a kid.”
Roy does NOT know how to respond to being taken care of. I love his relationship with Ollie but I always headcanon it as being pretty much a partnership of equals even when Roy was 10, i.e. they were equally immature. Ollie was his best friend but he was not cooking Roy's favorite foods.
Jason knew that. Roy had reminisced enough times about burning his fingers on fry bread right out of the pan that Jason could picture it: little Roy, big-eared and sunburned, fingers and cheeks sticky with cinnamon sugar or honey as he angled for another piece. But all he said was “You gonna eat it or what?”
GREAT JOB, MAN OF MYSTERY, YOU HID YOUR FEELINGS IMPECCABLY.
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leclercari · 7 months ago
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Nicholas Galitzine & Leo Woodall l Actors on Actors
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captain-huggy-bear · 5 days ago
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In Your Element
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Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Quinn finally gets an opportunity to each lunch with you at your school, but he arrives a little early and sees a different side to you, when you're absolutely in your element.
Notes: This was a request which I very much enjoyed writing, so thank you:
'For Quinn x teacher reader you could do Quinn going to eat lunch with her at school and getting there early on accident and just admiring her teaching and her getting along with her students and then getting home and just telling her how much he admires her and loves her and wants to marry her'
Not me researching Canadian school grades and ages because it is not the same in the UK (Grade 11 is age 16-17, where as year 11 in the UK is age 15-16 and also the final year of secondary for us)
Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)
Writing Masterlist
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Most days Quinn doesn't get a chance to go and visit you at work and he'd never had the opportunity to sit and eat lunch with you during the school day. After all, you were busy and so was he. You had maybe 40 minutes in a day to sit down and eat, then if he subtracted the time in that 40 minutes you needed to tidy your room, put books out for your next class, write the title on the board, sort your powerpoint out and then pee, plus dealing with any dramas your students brought to your door? Well, you probably had 10 minutes to eat...and he, well, how often was he actually available at that specific time of day? It was like ships in the night sometimes, both having highly busy careers in different ways, but you made it work. Partly by taking any moments that you could find and utilising them, both of you had to learn to be a bit more spontaneous and flexible.
Something that was easier said sometimes than done, but your desire to see each other had a way of making bending easier than breaking. It helped that you'd moved in with him before the season started, so at least he saw you at night and in the early hours of the morning.
Today was different, an odd day where the stars had seemingly aligned. Quinn had a free 2 hours in his day just at the right time for lunch with you and you had a free period after lunch which meant you didn't have to spend all your lunch break sorting stuff out for your next lesson. So, you'd agreed to tell the office he'd be visiting and he agreed to bring your favourite sandwich from your favourite deli along with other goodies for you to snack on.
The problem was Quinn hadn't expected to be 20 minutes early, Vancouver traffic being almost non-existent (which was a rarity) and the deli having absolutely no one inside despite it being lunch time (he briefly considered that the zombie apocalypse might have happened at that point). Being 20 minutes early meant he didn't really have anything to do. At first he assumed he'd have to simply wait in the office, but Maria on reception just gave him his visitors badge and walked him to your classroom, ushering him away from the uncomfortable visitors seats.
Your door is shut to keep the noise of the corridor out of your classroom. From the small window in the door Quinn can see the way your 11th graders sit in various states of focus, you're leant against your desk at the front, hands moving as you talk to them. There's something about how relaxed you are at the front of the classroom, the way you seem to be in your element that hits him. He's never seen you teach a lesson before and it strikes him that it seems right, like it's where you're supposed to be.
Maria knocks on the door and he watches as you pause, telling your students something before setting a timer on the board. Watching for a second to make sure they were all on task before walking to the door and reaching for the handle, your face a picture of surprise at seeing him here early.
"Mr Hughes is here to see you, I thought he could sit in the back or help you with the last little bit of lesson."
"Thank you, Maria I'm sure we'll figure it out." You smile warmly at Maria and it strikes him that you probably know all about her, that you've probably spent time with her at the staff Christmas party and eaten lunch together. It hits him that there are people you see every day that he has no idea about because your worlds simply don't cross that often. You know his team mates but does he really know your colleagues? He suddenly feels very out of place.
"You are early." You give him a look that makes him smile sheepishly at you, raising the bag of sandwiches as if that would solve the problem. Still you let him into your classroom, your students narrowing their eyes at the new face before promptly widening at who just walked into their classroom. Still they don't say anything, like you've taught them better, heads down as they continue writing an answer to the question on the board. A timer ticking down the remaining couple of minutes left.
He drops the bag onto your desk before you point to a spare seat at the back, "You can watch if you want...sorry, it might be boring."
"I don't think anything you could do would be boring." He knows the way he's looking at you is probably a little much for a classroom, he can't help it though. You're so pretty in your teacher clothes, there's a different sort of confidence rolling off you, you own the room and it's attractive, the way you command the room even when you're not overtly doing anything.
A quiet little murmur runs through the class at his statement, a few raised eyebrows and David lets out a little 'ohhhh' that you hush with a sharp look. Even that is hot, the fact a single look from you has a teenage boy shutting up, Quinn's rarely seen you like this, in complete and total control, effortlessly. In your pairing you're usually the one who follows while he leads. He orders your drink at a coffee shop or initiates a kiss, this is a different you.
"Go to your seat, Mr Hughes." The raised eyebrow does it for him as well and he thinks if he had to actually respond he'd have stuttered, instead he choses to follow your directions, trying desperately not to look utterly devoted to you in front of a bunch of teenagers.
He forgot how uncomfortable classroom chairs were, still he uses it as a chance to watch from the back corner. You wander the room, green pen in hand for the remaining time on the timer, writing notes on students' work and giving direction here and there. A few times you give warnings to students who haven't worked hard enough, but there's a general sense that this group of students work for you because they respect you. Even the kids who clearly aren't the most academic seem to try for you.
The timer is blaring when it goes off, some sort of lute sound that you clearly picked because it was mildly medieval and fit the vibe of your history classroom. It's ridiculous but it also describes you perfectly, those elements of quirkiness and fun that fit in even into a classroom where students write paragraphs and complete work. Like you have a balance perfectly set.
"Right, times up, so put your pens down..." You march to the front in quick time, nabbing a flashlight that one of your students was playing with at the front before they could even protest, slipping it into your pocket. It's impressive, the way you seem to have eyes on every corner of the classroom, the way you notice things that Quinn definitely would not have.
The student in question puts his hand up in the air and you call on him as if it was expected, "Yes, Rory?"
"Can I have it back at the end?"
"Yes, Rory, you can have it back at the end." It's interesting, the way that that is enough. That Rory seems to respect that it shouldn't have been out, doesn't try to argue that you shouldn't have taken it, but trusts that he'll get it back enough not to press they issue. Quinn's pretty sure Miller has argued with him more over lesser things before.
"Who can explain to me then how war has had an impact on medical development? Bonus points, potentially getting the bonus point duck for the rest of lesson, if you can give me concrete examples from our unit." He's close to putting his hand up to ask about the bonus point duck when you reach into your desk drawer and pull out a rubber duck dressed as Henry VIII.
It's in that moment that Quinn realises he does not know as much about you as he thought. He knew you. He knew the woman he called his girlfriend who couldn't sleep with her feet outside of the bed covers and absolutely had to have the shower on the highest heat setting, but he didn't know teacher you. Never in his life had you mentioned a bonus point duck, never would he have predicted that that was something you even had in your classroom and it's utterly ridiculous and shouldn't motivate a bunch of teenagers at all and yet, suddenly there were 20 hands in the air, a few calling out as if that would make you pick them quicker.
He watches the way you smile, the scan of your eyes over each, the way you bypass those not meeting your expectations until they correct themselves and then you pick a student that Quinn would likely not have picked, a student he knows his history teacher in school would have avoided.
When he thinks of picking a student to answer there are two modes he thinks of from his own high school career:
The one without their hand up, who doesn't look like their listening, the one a teacher wants to catch out
The student who is clearly a nerd, clearly good at the subject and will clearly given an impressive answer, the easy kid to pick
You pick neither. Instead, you go straight to a girl with her hand up but with thick blonde hair extensions in and enough gum in her mouth that Quinn can hear it smack from here. The stereotypical popular girl who probably doesn't care much about school and would rather be at the mall.
"Angel?"
"Well, it's like when there's a war on like World War One then all the government care about is winning the war, right?"
You nod in encouragement and it hits him that you picked Angel for a reason. That you picked a student who likely doesn't like school, likely gets discouraged but who you know can answer and get a confidence boost. It's smart, he does something similar with rookies, where he gives them a chance to do something so he can boost their confidence, can build a relationship with them. Suddenly captaincy and teaching seem awfully similar, minus the gum and the smell of Lynx Africa.
"So like if they don't improve medicine then all their soldiers just die, right? Either outright or later because of like infection like why they funded Florey and Chain to mass produce penicillin in World War Two or like why people were so into the leg splint thing in 1916. So, the governments put more money into medicine because that means soldiers live longer and can get sent back to war and then they can win the war because they still have men alive, but like if they all die you're going to lose the war, duh."
"Beautiful answer and a few specific examples in there, you have earned the duck," You smile widely at her as you walk to plop the rubber duck on her desk and he can see it, the way she seems to puff up in pride, the way a student who maybe would have hated History is engaged because of you.
He's pretty sure he just fell a little bit more in love with you.
"Yo, Miss?"
You sigh a deep sigh as if this interruption is expected, stopping mid walk back to the front of your classroom and turning on your heel, "Yes, David?" Your voice is mildly amused, not impatient or frustrated like Quinn would expect.
"Why ducks?" There's a beat of silence and Quinn watches the way you just stare at David, eyebrows high on your forehead like your considering whether you'll actually treat the question seriously or not.
Then a big smile crosses your lips like you're laughing at yourself before you even say the punch line to a joke. A silly little smile that is so his girlfriend that suddenly both versions of yourself seem to merge together.
"Because ducks fly together."
"C'mon, Miss! Really? Did you seriously just quote the Mighty Ducks when a hockey legend is in the room?" It's your patience with David that smacks Quinn in the face. You could have given him a detention by now or told him off for disrupting your lesson, but you're not. Like you're confident you can bring it back to the lesson soon enough. It makes him wonder if you'd be that patient with your kids, if he's seeing a little glimpse into a possible future where you're this patient with the kids you have with him.
"Well, maybe we should ask the 'hockey legend' what he thinks of my jokes? Mr Hughes?" You ask him because you know he'll back you up, and it's that sense of being needed that makes him sit up a little straighter in the chair he's in and smile widely like he's scored a goal.
"Hilarious as always, although maybe you need a bonus point orca?"
"Oh, do I? The duck not good enough?" There's a little glint in your eye, the one you always get when you're teasing him, playful. It feels like the rest of the world disappears, falls away, like you're the only two people in the room.
"Seems a little too Anaheim like for my taste,"
"You would say that, no taste." As if you're a Anaheim fan when you are in fact a Canucks fan through and through, but you know the statement will get a little rise out of Quinn. You can see the way his brow twitches at the suggestion that you'd pick the Ducks over the Canucks, the sense of male pride being slighted.
"Miss, stop flirting with Quinn Hughes!" It's David, it's always David. David with a wide grin that shows off his braces, David who's waggling his eyebrows at you, typical teenage boy behaviour really but it stumps you. Quinn can see that it stumps you.
There's a beat of silence, like your brain is trying to process what's just happened, and for the first time you're off your game, flustered, a little taken aback like you didn't expect it to go this far. But, then, Quinn was never in your classroom while you taught, never there for you to banter with in front of students. Quinn had proven to be a distraction, a disruptive presence if you will.
Your choice of tactic is perhaps not the best nor the most smooth, but simply to turn back to your powerpoint plastered on the board and pretend that it simply hadn't happened. To move on.
"Anyway, back to medicine," Your voice is a little unsteady, a little less controlled and Quinn feels slightly bad that he put you off your game, but admires the way you push forward.
You turn the slide on your powerpoint, an old cartoon springing up on the board, "I'm going to give you a copy of this source from 1847 about anaesthetic and I want you to analyse it like we've been practicing. If you can do this properly in 8 minutes then I will let you ask Mr Hughes some questions..." You pause briefly, looking directly at David, "Appropriate questions."
There's a bubble of excitement that sees students volunteering to help you hand out glues and copies of the source before all heads hit the desks, hands moving ferociously across the paper while 8 minutes ticks down on the clock. Just like that you've got them back on track and it is utterly impressive, how you managed to completely save a lesson that he'd accidently ruined for you.
You both survive the few minutes of questions at the end, David only asking a few minorly inappropriate ones which Quinn fields with his usual tactic of say nothing and refuse to answer. By the end he's not entirely sure how you handle being questioned all day by hundreds of teenagers and Quinn's a lot more sympathetic to your reluctance to make decisions when you get home after a long day of teaching. He gets it now.
"Have a good lunch, everybody!" You wave the last of your students off at the door, shutting it the moment they're all out and letting out a massive sigh of relief, shoulders slumping.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, just tired." The unspoken is there. That your job is hardwork, that getting kids in the modern age to focus on anything for more than 60 seconds might look easier to the outsider but takes more brainpower and more routines and techniques than you can shake a stick at.
Quinn decides to leave it for the moment, you probably don't want to spend your entire lunch break talking about teaching and he's ultimately here to see his baby, not talk about education.
"Sit, I got your favourite," He's guiding you gently, hands on your shoulders to your comfy desk chair, the one he hasn't seen you sit down in at all. You let him force you to sit down, let him sort out your sandwich placing it in front of you with a napkin and your favourite packet of crisps with your favourite drink to boot. It's a little thing but the way he sets it out in front of you, the way he takes care of you helps ease a little bit of the strain of the day.
"Thank you for coming and having lunch with me," You reach for half of your sandwich, exactly as you like it down to the type of bread used, watching as Quinn pulls one of the desks closer to you so he's not so far away. His own sandwich being pulled from the brown paper bag.
"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to see my girl, who's looking extra pretty today by the way." You almost choke on the first bite of your sandwich, cheeks warming even as you cough and roll your eyes at him. Feeling decidedly unattractive after nearly choking on bread.
"You are such a suck up!"
"Oh, so I can't compliment my girlfriend now? That's sucking up? I'm just stating facts. The sky is blue, water is clear and my girlfriend is gorgeous."
"Quinn!" You laugh at him and it's the most beautiful thing he's seen all day. The way your face lights up, eyes crinkling as you twist your head away from him because of how ridiculous you think he's being. When you laugh he can't help it, it makes him grin, teeth on show, sandwich half forgotten in front of him.
"And she can't take a compliment to save her life."
The two of you fall into a comfortable sort of routine, taking bites of your lunches while interspersing eating with conversation about his upcoming roadie and what you're going to send to your mum for her birthday.
He doesn't say anything about your teaching, doesn't even bring up the bonus point duck because he doesn't want to take up your few precious non-teacher minutes with it...and also because he's pretty certain 40 minutes is not enough time for all the things he's thinking.
How does one condense down how much they admire their partner? How does he talk briefly about how utterly amazing you are at your job and how he can't wait to marry you, to have kids with you, to see you be just as patient, just as amazing with them? He can't, so he decides to leave it til later.
He doesn't just eat lunch with you before he leaves the school though, Quinn, ever determined to make your life easier helps you tidy up your classroom and fix a display board that you couldn't reach the top corner of. You can't help but admire him as he stretches up up to staple a bit of border roll back in place, the muscles of his back flexing underneath his t-shirt, the way his hair falls effortlessly across his forehead. It's weird seeing him in this environment, your environment but you can't help but think that he fits in it, like it suits him to be helping in a classroom. Maybe in a different life he'd have been a teacher or maybe you were just waxing poetic in your head.
You walk him out to his car once your done, even though you should be using this time to plan, you can't help but try to get as many moments with him as possible, any little bit of time precious.
"I'll see you at home later?" You ask just in case he'd planned something with the team, fingers twined with Quinn's as you stand by his car.
"Yeah, I should be home already when you get in, figured i'd cook dinner tonight." He wants to make it nice for you, special, because he knows you're going to shy away from his compliments, his admiration...but he feels like he has a lot to say. Good stuff, but a lot and he wants you in a good mood, more receptive.
"Mmm, anything good?"
"Your favourite." You think about the spicy noodle dish he's perfected cooking, the little spring onions on top, the warming broth and it makes you feel almost hungry despite having just eaten lunch.
"And what did I do to deserve this treatment?" You tug him closer by the hands, tilting your head back to look up at him with a sweet smile that makes his heart race just a little bit faster. You're so pretty without even trying.
"Just being yourself, baby." Quinn breaches the distance between the two of you, leaning down to close the remaining space, lips pressing to yours gently, once, twice, a third time because he can't help himself, "Have a good rest of your day and I'll see you later, sweetheart"
Quinn presses one more kiss to your lips, a longer one that lingers, a force behind it that almost takes you off guard, your hands reaching up to grip at the edges of his jacket.
It takes you a moment to catch your breath, just long enough for Quinn to notice and smirk about it, to find it cute that he can still make you react like that.
"Bye, I love you." You force yourself to pull away, watching as he steps into the car.
"I love you too." You watch Quinn's car roll out of the school car park, wave back at him when he turns to look at you from the driver's seat before he's completely gone, before heading back instead to finish off your day.
The rest of your day goes relatively smoothly bar the incident in which a student decided to swallow a battery he had in his backpack to see what would happen, resulting in him being taken to hospital and your last class of the day being unable to focus on anything but that. Still as days go it was relatively stress free and made ten times better when you walked into the apartment to the smell of Quinn's world famous spicy noodles and the way he'd set up the dining table with some candles just to make things sweeter. The lights in the apartment dim and romantic feeling.
He's stirring the dish when you get to the kitchen area, back to you, but head turned at the sound of your feet padding towards him. You don't hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek into the centre of his back. Quinn leans back into you with a hum.
"You've really gone all out, huh?" You mumble it into his shirt, moving with him as he takes the pan off the heat and carries it towards the two bowls already laid out on the side. Shuffling alongside him determined to stay close to his warmth despite how inconvenient it was.
"Wanted to surprise you, now get off me and sit your cute ass down." You do as your told, jumping a little at the light swat Quinn gives to your arse as you move away from him. You turn to glare at him as if you're offended even though you both know you'd let him slap your arse whenever he wanted if he just asked.
Quinn serves you first, placing your bowl in front of you with a glass of your favourite thing to drink at dinner before grabbing his own noodles and sitting across from you.
At first it's quiet, the two of you more focused on eating than talking, but every now and then you look up to see Quinn staring at you as if he has something he wants to say. You choose not to rush him, both of you finishing your dinner before you insist that you put the dishes in the dishwasher since he cooked. Still he doesn't say anything and you don't push him.
It's not until he drags you to the couch, pulling you to curl up next to him while some movie plays in the background that he finally speaks his mind.
"You were amazing today..." You're tucked under Quinn's arm, his hand resting on your arm as you press your cheek into his shoulder, soft eyes looking up at him from under your lashes.
"Mm? What at work?"
"Yeah." You let him think for a minute, knowing he has more to say but clearly trying to figure out how he goes about saying it, his fingers tracing light circles on your arm. "I've never seen you like that...so in your element..."
There's a pause in which he shifts, pulling your legs over his lap, other hand gripping your calf. It's the most natural movement in the world, a touch neither of you even think twice about. "The kids love you. You got kids who probably hate school to willing write paragraphs for you and...you're so, so confident in that room, baby..."
"I'm just doing my job..." You hide your face in his shirt for moment, feeling that familiar bashfulness come to the surface. You've never been good at accepting compliments, even from Quinn, and now is no exception even as his words fill you with a giddy kind of happiness.
"I know but...the way you just knew you had it, even when someone was off topic, you knew you could get it back on track, that was so fucking attractive and even the silly things, like the duck!" Your head shoots up so fast at the mention of the duck that you almost knock his chin with the top of your head, the look you give him is nothing short of confused.
"The duck is attractive?"
"Not the duck exactly, but the fact that you wanted to make History fun but also still make sure they're actually learning...and, and it was so you, y'now? So silly but endearing and...I don't know..." Quinn looks away from you, red flush high on his cheeks as he starts to regret ever saying anything, feeling mildly embarrassed about how into you he is. Which he knows is ridiculous because he should be into his girlfriend.
"You don't know? Sounds like you do, you're just embarrassed about how much you love me." You tease him, hand cupping his cheek to get him to face you again, even when he's embarrassed he can't help but lean into your touch a little more, cheek pressed fully into your palm.
"I do love you...watching you teach was like seeing our future."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I thought..." There's that hesitancy again, flush bright on his skin, lip being bitten between his teeth. It's like he's worried he'll mess up if he speaks his mind, which is ridiculous because you love him so much you're not sure anything he could say would change that.
"You can't put me off, Quinn, if you're worried about saying the wrong thing...i'm too in deep to be put off, so, you thought?"
You wait, oh so patient, while he assesses you, judges whether you're telling the truth. Like he needs to double check that you're correct when you say you're in too deep.
"I was just thinking about how you're so patient with your students and how patient you'll be with our kids, y'know?"
"Our kids?" There's a giddy little sensation of butterflies flipping in your stomach, eyes widening in delight at the mention because how many relationships have you had where your exes refused to even consider children, where they didn't want that with you?
"Well, yeah, I'm going to marry you one day." It's so matter of fact as if he'd just said he was going shopping tomorrow or had a game on Saturday. A statement of objective truth as if there was no other option, no other outcome.
"Oh, you are?"
"If you let me. If you don't? I'm never going to marry anyone." You pull back from him, just enough to look at him, mouth slightly dropped open. He's dead serious, lips pursed, brows furrowed.
"Quinn."
"I mean it. I love you, you're so fucking amazing and I...seeing you in your element today made me realise how impossible it would be for me to fall in love with anyone else, to marry anyone else, to have a family with anyone else. I don't want anyone but you."
You let out a shaky breath, smile watery but pleased, full of love and affection.
"I...I guess it's a good thing then that I want to marry you one day. Can't have you dying alone, that would be sad." You're trying to lighten the mood, but the truth is you're so deeply touched, so in love with him that you hope he means it. If he breaks up with you, you're certain it'll break you for good because you were certain he was it for you too.
"Just to be clear this isn't a proposal, you're getting a proper proposal and it will be a surprise."
"You think you're sneaky enough to keep it secret?" Your arms wrap around his neck as the two of you shift, fingers playing with the dark curls at the nape of his neck.
"I think if I want something enough, i'll get it." Quinn's voice lowers in that way that has you raising your brows, cheeks warming as smirks down at you, green eyes peering at you from underneath unfairly long lashes.
"Oh?"
"Oh." You lean back against the couch, lowering yourself flat as Quinn crawls his way over you, arms bracketing your head on the couch beneath you. You reach a hand up to cup his jaw, scruff rough against your palm, the air around you feels charged.
He's the first to move, wasting little time before lowering his lips to yours. A soft press that deepens as your arms drag him closer, fingers curling in his hair tight. You're working on instinct when Quinn's tongue swipes across your bottom lip begging for entry, opening up for him as your legs wrap around his hips.
In that moment you are so very glad that you're never going to have to know what life is like without Quinn Hughes. That you'll always get to revel in the way he presses his whole weight onto you, the way his breath wavers when he pulls back just to catch his breath before diving back into you.
Maybe you're just lucky or maybe fate intervened, but you are so fucking glad you met Quinn Hughes and so fucking glad that he decided a random History teacher was more than enough for him for the rest of his life.
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sinofwriting · 2 months ago
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Sex Positive - Charles Leclerc
Words: 2,470 Summary: Y/N goes on a podcast to talk about one thing and one thing only, sex. Note(s): NSFW just because this is just all sex talk, no actual sex, but it is the main topic of discussion. Part SMAU
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Masterlist | Support Me!
“Y/N Y/L/N”
She smiles at the sound of her name, adjusting her headphones a bit until they finally seem to sit snug on her head.
“Welcome to the sex positive podcast.”
“Thank you for having me!”
“Thank you for coming on!” Elaine says. “When I reached out, I had hoped you would come on, but was shocked when you said yes.”
“I had to come on. We’ve known each other now for like two years?” Elaine nods at her words. “And yet despite that and this podcast doing so well, which by the way congrats on the new milestone. 250k is insane, and your profession we’ve never once talked about sex.”
“We have not.” Elaine laughs. “Probably because we also run into each other at events and dinners. Not the best place for me to ask how you feel about sex.”
“Well, I should tell you, I am coming on here to actually talk about how much I hate sex.” She says, ending her sentence with an eye roll, as she adjusts how she’s sitting, not even noticing her cardigan slip.
“Oh, yeah.” Elaine nods. “You hate sex.” She then nods to her left shoulder and her eyes drop and she lets out a laugh, seeing the love bites now exposed from the cardigan slipping.
“Like I said, I hate it.” She laughs.
“How is your relationship with sex? I mean, what has your experience been with it?”
She considers for a moment, “I’d say I have a good relationship with sex. It was never a topic that was shied away from when I was younger. My parents both gave me the talk, they made sure that I felt safe and comfortable to talk to them about it. They also never shied away from talking about how they had sex before they were adults, so if I did, they understood. All they asked was that I was safe.”
“And you think that’s helped?”
“Of course.” She nods. “I mean, I was sixteen when I had sex for the first time. Which was before all my friends and after that I was the one my girl friends came to for condoms and advice.”
“Was it good?”
She makes a face, “I mean, I think it was as good as two sixteen-year-olds having sex for the first time can be. A little awkward, some fumbling, finishing so quick.”
Elaine laughs, “Y’know that probably is as good as it can get.”
“Yeah.” She laughs.
“Were you like okay, I had sex this first time, I’ve experienced it, I’m good, or was it like me where you wanted to explore more.”
“Oh, I wanted to explore more. I didn’t have sex again for, I think like another two years. But I did so much self exploring. Just trying to see what I liked, what I was interested in, what I wasn’t interested in.”
“Porn?”
“Yes, there was quite a large amount of porn being watched. I read a lot of adult novels, guides, blogs, really just anything I could get my hands on.”
Elaine nods, tucking a leg underneath herself as she adjusts the microphone to be a little closer. “And this is something I’m curious about, how do you feel about porn? It’s something a lot of people are divided on, a lot of women especially.”
“I like porn. I enjoy it. Either just watching for pleasure or for research.” And she puts the last word in air quotes. “And please people listening or watching, if you see something you like in porn or are interested in, and this applies if you are reading something as well, look it up, read some guides and blog posts about it before doing it yourself. Just be safe.”
“Oh, please be safe. We have our own blog where we talk about different kinks, positions, various things and I urge you, along with everyone else who works on this podcast, to be safe with yourself and others.” Elaine says, addressing the camera before looking back at her. “So, you like porn.”
“Yes. Obviously not all porn is good, there are bad studios, there are overdone tropes, issues with the industry itself with it continuing to promote certain things because it earns them so much money. But I do enjoy it. It’s an industry that is always going to get criticized and hated and it deserves some of those criticisms without a doubt.”
“As a sex therapist, I do try to veer my clients away from porn, most of the time. And that’s mainly due to the acting of it. But it has its place in helping you learn and educate yourself. My issue is when people only look at porn and don’t look into things further.”
“Yeah, a hundred percent. It’s so important to not just take away things from porn but to take things away and expand on what you saw.” She nods.
“And of course I have to ask, what do you yourself like to watch in porn?”
“Hmm.” She thinks. “I think it depends on my mood. I think what I normally go for is something a little more rough. I’ve never really enjoyed watching people have like slow, gentle sex, not unless there’s something else there like overstimulation.”
“So, you like it rough?” Elaine asks.
She laughs, “Yes. It wasn’t something I had ever tried out before though until my current partner.”
“Really?”
She nods, “Really! I can admit that with my current partner, Charles, is where I’ve done a lot of exploring with someone else sexually. We’ve tried out many things.”
“Anything you guys didn’t like?”
“We don’t care for titles or honorifics.”
“You are crushing some dreams with that statement.”
“I know.” She laughs, well aware of the many tweets and things about wanting to call Charles daddy or sir. But it was just something that didn’t work for them in bed. The most was sometimes as a tease, she’d call him Mr. Leclerc and that was mainly to wind him up, not because the word itself was a turn on.
“What about things you’ve both enjoyed?”
“Oh, where to begin.” She teases, the both of them laughing. “Roleplay is one, bondage, edging, overstimulation. And I don’t consider this sex, but it is something we both enjoy a lot, cock warming.”
“That is quite the list.”
“Oh, just the tip of the iceberg.”
“Talk me through some of it. Bondage?”
“Yes. This was something we both had come into the relationship having never done before and wanting to do. We have the actual like rope you're supposed to use for when we do it, though sometimes we have used other things.”
Elaine shakes her head, grinning. “Of course you two have. I feel like if I see you two together, you’re always attached.”
“Pretty much. We both enjoy touch and Charles, despite all the interest in his personal life and how much already is exposed to the public, doesn't mind holding my hand or hugging or kissing me while in public.”
“Was that a worry of yours?” Elaine asks.
“Absolutely.” She nods, fingers interlacing. “I knew he’d at least, when I went to my first race, that he’d hold my hand, but I figured that might be it. And I didn’t want to bring it up since me going to Baku was so last minute for the both of us.”
“I’ve seen photos from that race and I would have never guessed that it was a last minute decision or that you two hadn’t talked about that yet.”
“Yeah, I got on a plane and was there by 11pm on Wednesday night, and the plane tickets had gotten bought maybe six hours before the plane took off. Charles had to send a photo of my ID to the front desk and had a spare key for me waiting since he had to be asleep already.”
“And then the next day, I mean you guys were very loved up.”
She grins, “we very much were. I think Charles knew I was nervous. We hadn’t officially been spotted together and he’s such a comforting person, very calming, so it was easy to not feel anxious with him holding me and pressing a kiss to my cheek every few minutes as y’know a bunch of people were taking photos of me and I’m being introduced to about a hundred people.”
“Which is overwhelming to say the least.”
“So overwhelming.” She nods.
“Though you might’ve liked that, since you’ve brought up overstimulation a few times.”
Her hands come up to hide her face, laughing into them, before they fall back into her lap. “I’d apologize, but I like what I like.”
“So it’s you being overstimulated.”
“Oh, absolutely. I find it very enjoyable.”
“I’ve never actually really talked about overstimulation, what is that you like about it? That you find to be enjoyable?”
“It’s the near constant feeling of too much, it’s so much pleasure just back to back, and everything depending on how you're doing it, can feel just like raw? And exposed? And you don’t think you can orgasm one more time, you just can’t again, but then you can and it feels at least in my experience just so good and then you do it again and again, and every time the pleasure of it just washing over you is even more and more and it’s the only thing you can focus on, everything else just fades away.”
“You make me want to try it.” Elaine laughs.
Charles’ head immediately perks up when he hears the hotel door open. “Chérie! How was the podcast?”
She smiles, setting her bag down, before moving over to the couch where Charles is sitting and happily sitting in his lap before Charles can pull her down. “It was good.” She finally says after kissing him.
He hums, “How good?”
She thinks, playfully humming as her fingers run through his hair. “Very good. I think your fans will want to kill me and so will Ferrari.”
He frowns, arms tightening around her. “Ferrari knows that you are allowed to do as you’d like. It is not like with,” He stops himself.
“I know, Charles.” She soothes. “But, they will be upset with me considering me talking about my sex life is talking about your sex life.”
He huffs, obviously not liking it, but he hopes that the podcast will do well, be received well, so at least Ferrari will be forced to accept it because fans like it.
“Did you mention me?”
Her eyebrow raises, “No. I want on a podcast to talk about my sex life so you obviously didn’t come up.”
He pouts at the tease and she can’t resist pressing a kiss to his pouty lips.
“Yes, I mentioned you. Multiple times and by name.”
He hums, moving his hands under her cardigan and top. “What did you say?”
“That we’ve done a lot of things together. That we like certain things.”
When she had accepted the invite it was only after a long talk with Charles, one she had to force, to go over what she could and couldn’t mention. Charles had been fine with her mentioning whatever she wanted. Uncaring that it would be out for the world to see, his colleagues, friends, and even family if for some reason they decided to click on it. He had stuck by that after their talk, though had asked her to keep most of the details of their roleplay and their love of rough sex to a minimum.
And it had been easy to not talk about what kind of roleplay they did and while rough sex had been mentioned twice, they were brief, just establishing her love of it.
“It did make me want to roleplay our favorite thing again.”
His eyes light up at her words.
It wasn’t often something they did, their favorite roleplay scenario, not when it required her to be in a certain headspace to really work, but she wants and craves it so much.
“You want to be my innocent little girl?” His voice has a bit of rasp, his fingers resting on her back, stretching out.
“Yes.” She breathes.
He leans forward, giving her a hungry kiss, his and her last chance to lose control, before pulling away. “Go get ready for me, bébé. I’ll find a place to have dinner.”
---
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luvvyouforever · 27 days ago
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Hello, could I request Stardew Valley Sam relationship headcanons with a female reader? Sfw and nsfw, please and thank you!
absolutely! <3
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sdv sam boyfriend headcanons ౨ৎ
content: fluff, cheesy things, nicknames, cuddling, overstimulation, dom/sub mention, nudes, praise, fantasies. author's note: i've never actually romanced or married sam in sdv but i did research for this so i hope it's somewhat accurate hehe
sfw:
-loves doing cheesy stuff with you! like if you see any internet couple trend you wanna do, he would jump at the opportunity to do with you!! is just totally not afraid to show his love for you, even if it can be a little corny at times.
-he probably calls you "babe" and "baby" a lot! they're easy pet names that roll of his tongue easily. tbh, he probably uses them more than your actual name! if he's addressing you all flirtatiously, he uses "cutie." i think he also likes coming up with a very special nickname for you that comes from an inside joke.
-will totally write and dedicate songs to you, are you kidding me?? and oh my god he's so cute and cheesy with it too. like, when you guys have just started to flirt and get closer to each other, you're hanging out at sunset on the pier or he's watching you excitedly play video games on his bedroom floor and he looks at you all puppy-eyed and says, "i could write a song about you." and it becomes a phrase he uses for those extra special moments in life.
-loves watching you support him and his band. seeks you out in the crowd, points to you, and makes eye contact with you through the whole show. pleaseee make a t-shirt with the band name on it and wear it around him. he's never been more in love.
-when he's working at joja, he's totally the kind to have you come over and just hang around him while he's at work. does morris find it incredibly annoying that the farmer trying to put him out of business is distracting one of his only workers? yes, but are you gonna stop? no, your bf needs company!
-speaking of keeping him company, his love language is def quality time. feels so loved when you just want to spend time with him, regardless of what you're doing. he's so happy just to have you in his room while he's playing games or playing the guitar and you can work on whatever you'd like! just loves your presence and really values it.
-would also be incredibly happy if you got along with abigail and sebastian. those are his best friends and bandmates! he invites you to their practices and hang outs and he feels his heart grow a little wider when you're laughing with everyone like you've been there the whole time.
-likes doing things around the farm with you! he might not be the best at some of the chores (aka he once pulled up an entire patch of carrots thinking they were ready to be harvested...they were not), but he's gonna offer to help anyway! maybe give him the job of petting all your cows and pigs and chickens, or collecting the honey from your beehives.
-learns your favorite song on guitar and plays it for you when you've been having a bad day. he's so sweet.
-is such a cuddle bug. before he moves into the farmhouse, he always sadly leaves you at night and looks back at you with a pout on his face the whole walk home. you laugh at his antics from the porch, but really, you get the best sleep when you both are a tangled mess of limbs with the blankets folded beyond recognition.
-he is such a typical skater bf. tries to teach you to skateboard and holds your arms really steady as he pulls you along the sidewalk outside of his house. he's so encouraging and keeps telling you, "look! you're doing it! you're doing so good!" if you fell, he would ask if you're okay and if there's no injuries, he will let out a little giggle.
-he really wants to support you when you go into the mines. even goes as far as offering to come with you! he lasts through the slimes and the flying bug things, but the minute he sees the ghosts and the skeletons and the golems, he's finding the next elevator and leaving immediately. shouts "you got this babe!" from the top of the cave.
-loves putting you in and see you in his clothes. if it's cold, he likes wrapping you up in his jacket. if you're sleeping over, will not hesitate to offer one of his shirts to wear. if you're in the saloon watching him play pool, he offers you his denim jacket to wear. it's not really a possessive thing, but more so a "ohmygodyoulooksocute" thing.
-gets cuteness aggression with you, tbh. like when you've woken up in the morning engulfed in oversized hoodies and sweatpants with a tired pout on your lips, he just wants to bite you and squeeze you.
-forgets everything. poor baby. like his memory is just awful and he won't forget the chords to your favorite song or how to do a trick on the skateboard that impressed you early on, but he will forget to set out food to thaw for dinner and he will forget to put the newest batches of wine into the shipping box.
-really finds your connection with his family to be incredibly important. like he would be okay if you didn't click well with his friends, but if you weren't playing with vincent on the living room floor or helping jodi wash the dishes after dinner, he would be a little more than turned off.
-if you're the type of person to mess with lewis and steal his purple shorts and use them in every event, he's right behind you. giggles when the only thing you've brought for the showcase is his shorts and even stalls him while you place them in the box. loves getting all the town gossip from you too!
-sam just really wants to be with someone who appreciates his presence, who is willing to be a part of his life, and someone he can have a lot of fun with. he just loves loving you and he makes sure you know that too.
nsfw:
-i don't think sam's got a lot of experience tbh. i don't think he's entirely new to the concept of sex, as in i don't think he's a virgin, but he's just on the younger side in a small town where everybody knows everybody!
-that's not to say that he doesn't know what he's doing with you. in a more modern stardew valley world, he's likely consumed at least some kind of pornography (probably in normal sdv too, idk what they get up to at nightime), and also knows what gets him going.
-he's also a quick learner and adaptable. if you don't like something he's doing, he wants you to guide him to where you want him. once you've taught it to him once, it becomes second nature after that.
-is really allllll about pleasure during sex. he can't really put up with teasing or edging too long because damn it, let the man make you feel good! would much prefer to overstimulate both you and himself than deny both of your pleasures.
-in fact, he actually thinks overstimulation is hot both for you and him. you'd have to tug him off of you because he just never wants you to stop feeling good. he thinks seeing your scrunched up face and hearing your intense moans is soooo hot. as for him, he loves when you keep touching him even after he's came. whether it's with your hand or mouth or pussy, he doesn't care. he loves the way it feels.
-is such a sucker for lingerie. when he's not with you in bed and really needs to jerk off, he imagines stripping you down, starting with your pants, then moving to his band t-shirt that he throws to the side, revealing the prettiest, lacy set underneath that makes his mouth water.
-definitely fucks to music and even makes a CD to play while you guys are having sex. it's a combination of songs he loves, songs that fit the mood, and songs you love. he just likes having the background noise accompanying your moans.
-can really either be more dominant or more submissive. i see him as a very sweet, soft dom though. he's calling you all kinds of cute names and adorning your body with a billion kisses and encouraging you to cum for him or to cum another time and then he's caressing your body really gently while he slides in. as for being submissive, he just thinks there's something so hot about a strong woman taking lead. he'll listen to you like a puppy and thrives on praise.
-speaking of praise, the man lives and breathes it. tell him how good he's doing, let him know that you're feeling fucking amazing. in turn, he'll spill compliment after compliment, so many, in fact, that you have to tell him to hush.
-kinda thinks the thrill of you and him fucking in his bedroom is so hot. it's late at night, the rest of the house is definitely asleep, but you're giggling and sneaking in through the window and kissing him so his moans are subdued.
-i think sam really needs to be with someone who thinks hands/fingers are hot, can i say that? like the man plays guitar so his fingers are long and slender and i feel like he's got these nice veins that pop out when he plays, and he blushes when you can't stop staring at them, imagining all the things those hands could be doing right then.
-regardless of whether he's feeling more dominant or submissive, he's so incredibly needy. when he's in the mood, he's touching you all over from the minute the both of you are home to the minute you fall asleep after having sex. he's whispering pleases and giving you these big puppy dog eyes. he's all pouty when you have to get him to stop touching you, like when he's at work or when you're at the saloon.
-if you imagine a modern sdv with phones, he's such a sucker for nudes. before he moves in, when you're in separate bedrooms, you'll surprise him with a pic of you in his t-shirt lifted up to show what's underneath. he responds within seconds, telling you how pretty you are. it just grows from there. he's soooo the kind of guy to send you videos of him touching himself. and cumming too.
-really loves you riding him i think. he's a boob guy and likes having them right there in front of his face. he's running his hands all over you and groping you and throwing his head into your chest. i think he's also down to try 69ing. both of you get pleasure while also giving pleasure??? he's all for it.
-before you actually make a move and have sex with him, he's all about sloppy makeouts in his bed. you've snuck into his room after jodi went to bed and he has you perched in his lap, making out to some kind of soft rock music.
-is such a sucker for hickies too. while he does try to hide them the day after, he just love seeing your handiwork in the mirror the morning after. he gets needy again seeing the huge purple and red splotches on his neck and touches them while reminding himself how he got them. would send you a picture too with a winky face and a cheeky comment hehe.
-i think he has a lot of fantasies in his head. like he adores you for how you are, but when he's by himself, he's imagining these scenarios like rockstar x fan backstage or, dare i say, professor x student (w you as the professor of course). he'll be so ashamed to admit these out loud, but once you encourage him enough, he gets so excited and makes it an entire production.
hope you enjoyed! (i might need to romance sam on my next farm)
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dollishmehrayan · 27 days ago
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ACADEMIC RIVALS TO LOVERS WITH TIM ── .✦
a/n: guys who’s backk anyways this was a request by this lovely @pearlybaee (mentions aren’t showing up) but anyways I hope this reached the standards and tysm! ᥫ᭡
tags: ( tim drake x gn!reader)
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THE RIVALRY BEGINS ── .✦
You and Tim Drake weren’t enemies, far from it. But being in the same academic sphere as him meant constant competition. It wasn’t outright hostile, but the two of you had a habit of accidentally one-upping each other in every single class.
“Oh, you got a 98 on the physics test?” Tim would say with a raised eyebrow. “Congrats! I got a 99. Must’ve been that question about Newton’s third law.” (That would’ve lowkey pissed me off oml🌚😭)
Your response? A shrug paired with: “Oh, it’s fine. I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. Maybe I’ll tutor you sometime.”
Cue Tim’s light laugh, which only fueled your competitive spirit.
UTTER CHAOS MOMENTS ── .✦
During a group project, the professor thought pairing you and Tim together was a great idea. Neither of you said anything, but your eyes screamed, This is going to be a mess.
Tim, casually: “I’ll handle the research and presentation. You can write the report.”
You, not missing a beat: “Wow, I didn’t realize you wanted to make us fail. I’ll handle the research, thanks.”
He smirked but relented, “Fine. But if the slides are ugly PowerPoint ones, I’m blaming you.”
In a debate, the teacher made the mistake of pitting you against Tim.
“Timothy Drake’s argument is valid—if you ignore all the facts.”
Tim: “Wow, I didn’t realize we were presenting opinions today. Did you leave your sources in the other room y/n?”
The entire class lived for these moments. (Yk when the teacher starts talking about they’re life and they forget the lesson, that’s vibe omg)
THE KIND SIDE ── .✦
Despite the playful jabs, Tim secretly respected you. The fact that someone could keep up with his relentless drive and still manage to make him laugh? It was impressive.
Once, you stayed late in the library, struggling with a particularly tough assignment. Tim noticed and, instead of teasing, sat down next to you with his laptop.
“You know, if you keep looking at that paper like it’s going to fight you, it just might,” he said, sliding his notes over.
“Wow, are you actually helping me?” you asked, pretending to be shocked.
“Don’t get used to it,” he quipped, but the grin on his face told you he didn’t mind.
THE REALIZATION ── .✦
The moment Tim realized he was falling for you was during a particularly heated trivia competition for a school fundraiser or smth. You buzzed in before him and answered correctly with such confidence that the crowd erupted in applause.
He just stared, dumbfounded, while you turned to him with a smug smile. “What’s the matter, Drake? Cat got your tongue?”
It hit him like a ton of bricks: he didn’t want to beat you. He just wanted to keep standing next to you, watching you shine and get to call you his too.
THE CONFESSION (WHICH WAS TOTALLY NOT REHEARSED 7X WHEN HE WAS ALONE.) ── .✦
Tim’s confession wasn’t grand or overly dramatic. Instead, it happened during one of your late-night study sessions. You were both hunched over a table, working through equations, when he blurted out:
“You know, this whole rivalry thing? It’s kind of ridiculous.”
You looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Ridiculous how?”
“I mean…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to keep competing with you. I want… I don’t know, to actually spend time with you. Without trying to prove I’m smarter.”
You blinked, surprised. “So you’re saying… you like me, is this a date?”
Tim groaned, cheeks pink. “Yes, obviously, I’m not just blabbing y/n.”
You leaned back, pretending to think. “Huh. This is going to be so fun to hold over your head.”
Tim laughed, shaking his head. “I take it back. You’re the worst.”
But when you smiled at him—actually smiled—he couldn’t help but think you were the best thing that had ever happened to him.
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bonnyhoddie · 2 months ago
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Rodger and Glisten
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I’ve been playing Rodger recently to get Main research but I prefer Glisten a lot more, and I find his extraction dialogue a lil amusing considering Glisten’s better at extracting than him. Also I feel like they’re both just as competitive as each other, but Glisten just shows it more.
Would higher extraction speed mean Glisten is smarter or stronger than Rodger? He’s not the best at skill checks and I’d never use the magnifying glass and award combo for him but he can turn the wheel on the machine better than everyone else except Vee.
Also omg if anyone with good luck wants to do a main hunt lemme know, I haven’t found a main at all in 2 days, and I have 43% Shelly research I really want herrr
Any of the mains really but Shelly’s cute and I think she’s super useful with her abilities, skill check stat and trinket. Then I want Sprout and Pebble after.
Also, rant time despite not actually being mad or annoyed or anything, actually it’s kinda funny:
Why does everyone just drop like flies on the first floor. Like, god damn, a full lobby of 8 people and it drops to 2 or 3. It won’t even be filled with noobs either, like, they’d all have toons that require them have experience at the game, like Gigi, Teagan and Goob, but chaos ensues. Like, all of a sudden, nobody can hide, everyone’s being chased and I’m just there watching and hearing everyone die and just like that, either I’m completely on my own or with 2-3 other people. Having only 1 or 2 people die on the first floor is so rare for me for no reason.
I also had another Rodger call us all stupid idiots for ‘not planning a run better’ because the distractor died floor 2 and they died at the very start of floor 3 and had 1 heart.
Which, first of all, we can’t plan a run with a) not knowing people’s specific skills since they’re all strangers, just their toons, and b) everyone fighting to get to an elevator, meaning the toons we like might not even get in because a noob or a toon we just like less gets in.
And, second of all, if you NEED a distractor to survive floor 3, play some solo games or a normal run, not one that is meant to be long, cause clearly you need to work on some things. If it were just mistakes or bad luck (which happen a lot to me) that’d be perfectly fine, but not relying on a distractor to exist just to survive and completely dropping your guard just because there’s a distractor. Get some skills at that rate.
Also, distractors, I love you so so so much and appreciate all you do, but please sprint a lil sometimes, every time I see the twisteds running so close to the distractor I get scared of them turning at some points, accidentally running into something or someone, or Panic Mode happening, because those catch a lot of people out, including me when I’ve played distractor Tisha and Razzle (yes, with both the plush and shoes, you’d never catch me playing distractor without both of those), and every time, I see those same distractors that don’t run every now and then for a lil more distance get hit.
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 9 months ago
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why them??
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Whenever we visit a new location, there's an in-game reason given for why it's these specific four characters chosen to go! I was eager to see why Vil had Jamil, Azul, and Ace come along with him to an acclaimed film festival... and I was not disappointed 😂
***Tapis Rouge in the Shaftlands spoilers under the cut!!***
So as it turns out, Vil has been invited to the International Film Festival in Fairest City (a significant location for the entertainment and beauty industries). He’s going to promote a movie he’s in that’s releasing next year.
The original plan was for the Film Research Club to accompany Vil and take the chance to learn more about movie productions. However, the club is in the middle of filming for their own project and a change in weather has led to their shoot next week being cancelled. The filming they would have done next week now has to be done this week, so Vil’s club members cannot go on the trip. (Vil himself still has to attend because he is contractually obligated to.)
The other NRC students start to argue over who Vil should take in his club members’ places. The people vying for spots include:
Cater (because the Fairest City is so trendy and always popular on Magicam)
Azul (many famous brands are sold in Fairest City; he has a financial interest in this research)
Lilia (has visited the city before, but never the film festival)
Jade (the city is close to old mines, which he is interested in)
Ace (he loves the idea of going to a fashionable city and “tasting” the celebrity world)
Rook (a lover of movies and dramas; he is curious about the movie studios)
Floyd, Epel, Deuce, Grim (lol it sounds fun to them; Epel also says he has not traveled a lot so he wants to go this time)
Ruggie (FANCY FOOD)
Jamil (wants to take advantage of Vil’s presence to see behind-the-scenes things they don’t normally show; he usually prepares snacks for when Kalim watches movies at one of three at-home theaters but hasn’t had the time to really appreciate the films for what they are himself)
DKJLBHASILYFAYFVQEFIFQEPI; I love the added detail of Jamil telling the others they're inconveniencing their senpai but then Azul cuts in and implies the behavior is a manipulation tactic to show off to Vil how reliable Jamil can be (thus increasing his odds of going while he still maintains his "humility")... Those two just cannot stop getting at each other's throats, I swear 💀 (In part 2, they continue the pettiness when Ace comments that they’re both quick to tease him together, so do they actually get along? Jamil says no but Azul says yes… and the two of them are STILL bullying each other about their personalities once they get their new outfits. Truly not a dull moment with them…)
BUT THIS IS THE REAL STINGER
So since Vil can only pick 5 people to take with him, he says they'll have to prove that they somehow excel over the others. It's then that Azul cooks up a scheme on the spot and recruits Jamil and Ace for it: a lottery! Azul proposes it, has Jamil pitch in, and has Ace prepare the drawings. THIS WORKS ON MULTIPLE LEVELS BECAUSE:
Azul can present the idea as "random" and "fair". This makes him appear like a kind problem solver not wanting to give anyone, not even himself, a leg up.
It would come off as shady if he gets one of the twins (known to be his henchman) to agree with him... so who does Azul get to back him up? Jamil, someone from another dorm, and someone who was passive aggressive with him earlier. This creates a false illusion that others beyond Azul and his dorm believe in the "fairness" of the lottery.
Ace has deft fingers; he a cut a deck of cards--and he can easily rig a lottery since he's in cahoots with Azul, the guy who suggested it to begin with.
This creates a situation where Azul, Jamil, AND Ace get to go to the event. These bitches are mutually benefitting from being collectively sneaky (According to Ace, Yuu and Grim pulled the remaining two slots by coincidence, so they just happen to be "lucky") 🤡 AND THE FUNNIEST PART OF IT ALL IS THAT VIL SUSPECTED THEY WOULD PULL THIS SHIT, BUT HE LET IT HAPPEN ANYWAY SINCE IT'S TECHNICALLY STILL THEM DEMONSTRATING THEIR TALENTS TO HIM...
Truly, bravo... That deserved a standing ovation, gentlemen 👏
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limethefirst · 2 months ago
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Spider-Girl
pairings: Damian Wayne (Batfamily) x Reader
warnings: spiders, death, violence (it's gotham), character death, little sad
summary: your class takes a trip to the Wayne science facility, only for you to get bitten by a radioactive spider while you're there, now you must navigate life as Gotham's first Spider-Girl
a/n: I absolutely love DC and the batfam so I wanted to try my writing on a DC fic especially after listening to 'It's On Again' by Alica Keys, it says Damian Wayne x reader but it's more Robin because I want this to be a slow burn, if this does well enough I'll make a series, live laugh love
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"Wake up, dweeb," The voice said, a playful hint of teasing behind it. You opened your eyes slightly, seeing the familiar face in front of you, your older brother Alex looked at you, a bright smile on his face as he shook you lightly.
A groan escaped your lips as the covers you were under were pulled from you, "What time is it?" You asked him, unamused at the rough awakening.
"6:30, you do know you have to be at school by 7 today for your field trip to the Wayne Enterprise Science Facility?" Your brother chuckled as your eyes widened in shock at the realization.
Quickly scrambling to your feet you grabbed your clothes and rushed to the bathroom, getting ready as fast as you could.
The only reason your class was going on this trip was due to the fact that Bruce Wayne's son, Damian Wayne was in your class, and he offered this trip as a way of keeping the school happy with Damian's somewhat complicated behavior.
Although you weren't complaining, your father used to work for that facility before his tragic passing, the details were never specified, the only thing you knew was there was an accident, a research project gone wrong, killing him.
Bruce Wayne felt terrible for it, because of this he actually ended up paying for your entire tuition at Gotham Academy, as well as your brother's tuition for Gotham University, along with some other expenses.
You never held it against the Wayne's, it wasn't their fault, you knew that. Your mom on the other hand did hold a bit of a grudge, she obviously was grateful that she had enough money to send her children to their respective schools, considering the fact you guys didn't have much money in the first place, most of it came from your fathers work. So she knew she couldn't complain but she certainly didn't appreciate the first thing that the Wayne's did was throw money at the problem.
As you finished getting ready you walked into the kitchen, your mom making some breakfast as your brother walked in behind you, lightly hitting the back of your head as he walked in front of you, "Hey, watch it!" You jokingly said, rubbing the spot he hit.
"Here, I packed your books for you since I knew you'd forget them anyway," He smiled at you, holding out your backpack and throwing in some leftovers from yesterday's dinner as your lunch for today.
You playfully rolled your eyes at him before grabbing your bag from his hands, a smirk finding its way to his face, "I wasn't going to forget doofus, but thanks anyway"
Your mom turned around, two plates in her hand, "Hey, play nice you two!" Your mom said, a smile gracing her face as she watched her two children playing around as she handed you each your plates, "Hey Alex can you take Y/N to the facility? I have to get to work a late shift today so I won't be back till 11 tonight, maybe you two can go get a pizza, sibling bonding!" Your mom told your brother as she grabbed her jacket, getting ready for another late night nursing shift at Gotham Hospital.
Alex put his arm against his forehead, pretending to salute your mom, "Yes ma'am!" He replied to her, your mom couldn't help but laugh at his antics.
"I'll see you both later tonight, behave" Your mom walked up to each of you, giving you both a kiss on the head as she put her jacket on and left, leaving you alone with Alex.
"Kiss ass..." You grumbled, crossing your arms as Alex chuckled at your little comment towards him.
He took his plate and sat down on the couch, scrolling through his phone as he did so, "Hurry up with your food so we can go, you have 15 minutes before they start attendance at the building,"
With that quick reminder you gobbled down your food, almost choking a few times as all Alex did was laugh at you.
"We're here," Alex's voice snapped you out of your daze, noticing the familiar building in front of you, you grabbed your bag and started to open the car door, "Hey I got a class right now but it'll be finished at 4, when you're done here we can hang out after, how does that sound?" His voice softened, although you guys may bicker he is your brother and he truly does care for you.
You gave him a small smile, a hum of acknowledgement escaping your lips, "Sounds like a plan, but you're paying!"
Alex laughed at your quick response, "Fine fine, I knew I'd have to anyway," You closed the door turning around ready to find your class at the entrance before a sudden honk made you jolt and turn around, "Be safe kiddo! I already miss you sooo much!!"
This action gathered the attention of a few people passing by as well as some classmates who were waiting, you turned around quickly walking to your teacher, hoping the embarrassing scene would just end.
Of course Alex had to ruin the nice moment, but what type of brother would he be if he didn't embarrass his younger sister to some extent?
A sigh escaped your lips as you walked up the stairs to the front of the building, catching a glimpse of blonde hair that you knew belonged to your friend Gwen Stacy.
"Gwen!" You exclaimed, making your presence known to her.
The blondie turned around, her smile growing seeing you, "Y/N!" Gwen stopped whatever she was doing and ran up to you, giving you a big hug, "Are you excited! I know you've been waiting for this trip all month!"
"Ugh yes! I can't wait to see what they're working on!"
"Hey guys!" Turning around you saw none other than your close friend Mary Jane. The extraverted red-head waved at you two, as she came over.
"I'm glad you were both able to make it!" You confessed to your friends as you three made it in line with the rest of the class.
As the clock struck 7 your teacher, Mrs Lee began to take attendance, making sure she had a head count and explained the rules of this trip.
"You are all guests here, so please stay together and do not distract the workers, make sure to stay with your group, we will all meet back at the front at 3:30 for a final role call then you can call your respective rides to pick you up!" Everyone was somewhat silent listening to Mrs Lee, a bit of whispering here and there but that was expected.
You turned your head a bit to the side, noticing a taller figure slowly making their way into the group, Damian Wayne, clearly not wanting to make his presence publicly known hung around the back of the group of teens.
You couldn't help but stare a bit, you'd never really talked to him, having maybe only asked him to borrow a pencil once or twice. You didn't know how long you were staring at him but it seemed like he noticed, the boy turned his head, his green eyes burning holes into your head as you quickly turned around, embarrassment creeping up your face at the awkward interaction.
"Alright class let's head inside!" Mrs Lee spoke, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. MJ grabbed your arm and hooked it with hers as Gwen put her hands in her pocket, walking in first prompting you to follow after.
You listened a bit as the guide explained what was currently going on and how Wayne enterprises was working on radioactive testing.
At some point your class came upon a bunch of insects, each one having a special number on them, indicating which was which.
"One of these are missing," MJ pointed out, interrupting the guide, for a second they seemed somewhat worried but quickly composed themselves.
"I'm sure this one is being tested on right now!" They said, making everyone nod their heads in agreement.
You heard a tsk from behind you, turning around to see Damian seemingly annoyed by the workers response as he quickly passed you up to go and look at the empty case.
You didn't give it much thought, they didn't really explain what the insects were for, so you didn't really care about one being experimented on at the moment.
As you watched the boy look at the case, as Mrs Lee's made a sudden announcement, "Alright everyone, we have a 30 minute break, you can all go on and explore the rest of the facility with your groups and meet back at the front no later then 3:30!" Before she could even finish her sentence everyone had already dispersed, many not listening to her group rule.
"Hey I'm gonna go to the restroom! I'll be back!" You told Gwen and MJ, quickly turning around to find the nearest restroom as they gave you both a thumbs up, turning around to then find a table to wait for you at.
The restroom wasn't hard to find, what was hard was finding a paper towel to dry your hands off, "Ugh cmon this is a Wayne building why don't they have paper towels?" You annoyingly exclaimed, shaking your hands dry instead.
Suddenly you felt a strange pinching sensation near your wrist, looking down you saw a strange red and somewhat blue spider. Without a second thought you slapped the spider, watching as it fell to the ground, it's legs curling up, a sign it was dead.
"Yuck," You said, watching as the spider twitched a bit before it's ultimate demise.
You paid no mind to the bite, watching it get a little red but assuming that it was just irritated since it was technically a bug bite. Finding your way to Gwen and MJ, sitting next to them you pulled out the lunch Alex slipped into your backpack, which was just left over spaghetti from yesterday but you didn't mind it.
Gwen and MJ began to talk amongst each other, Gwen getting lost in talking about the research facility while MJ showed her pictures she took.
Throughout the break you couldn't help but start to feel drowsy, and honestly somewhat sick; this was something that didn't seem to go unnoticed by your friends.
"Hey, uh Y/N you okay there?" MJ asked you, as she stood next to where you were sitting.
Slowly you looked up to her, your face looking drained and your eyes sulking, "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because we've been telling you to get up for the past minute, it's the trips already over we need to meet up front," Gwen answered, her hands on her hips as she looked at you worried.
You tried to refocus but the strange feeling of exhaustion overtook you, "Oh sorry, I'm just feeling really tired," You told the girls, MJ's brows furrowing in disbelief as Gwen helped you up.
Walking outside was harsh, the sunlight temporarily blinding you till you got used to the feeling.
Mrs Lee began to praise the class for their listening skills today and their behavior but you could hardly focus, feeling as if you suddenly had a fever.
Thankfully Alex was quick to pick you up, "You look like shit," He lightly chuckled, trying to hide the worry in his voice, "Maybe we should reschedule that pizza dinner."
You slowly buckled yourself into the passenger seat, "No, no I just need to sleep it off, cmon mom will be gone lets enjoy ourselves" You weakly protested, Alex let out a sigh, taking off his jacket and throwing it over you before he drove off.
"Fine but if you get sick mom better not blame me," He said trying to make light of the situation.
He looked to his side, curious why you hadn't responded, only to see you already taking your nap in the car, he smiled at the scene, glad to see you being able to rest, "What am I going to do with you," he lightly sighed, a playful smiling tugging at his features.
It didn't take long for you two to arrive home, Alex lightly nudged you awake, groaning as he helped you out of the car, his jacket still over your shoulders as he dropped you off in your room, leaving to go watch some television in the living room.
You slept at least 3 more hours before waking up to a sudden burst of energy, it was strange, you felt stronger, and more aware. You slowly sat up, realizing you still had Alex's jacket on.
You grabbed your phone to check the time, seeing it was around 7:15 you felt your stomach grumble, telling you that it was time to eat. You got up from your bed, feeling extremely flexible as you did that, which was strange but you paid it no mind.
You opened the door of your room, seeing the bright hue of the television illuminate the living room, Alex's shadow as there.
"Hey ass face I'm hungry," You said, walking behind your brother as he sat unmoving in front of whatever news was on.
He looked back, smiling at you; taking notice of your attire, "I see you got a sense of fashion little sis" Alex mentioned, eyes scanning the jacket of his which you wore.
You rolled your eyes at him, covering the front of your shirt with his jacket, "I'm only wearing it because it's keeping me warm!" You exclaimed, turning away from him and making your way to the door, "Now hurry up, I want that pizza I was promised.
Alex laughed as he got up, "I don't think I said promise," He said making his way to the door, grabbing his keys and wallet "But fine, hurry up, if we get going now we can maybe get ice cream after"
"I'll hold you to it!"
Both of you let out a small laugh, as you started your journey to the pizza parlor.
Alex ordered you both a pizza to share, and maybe take home if any was left, it was an honestly pretty good day.
But all good things must come to an end.
"As your kind and loving older brother, I declare that I shall owe you an ice cream from wherever you desire!" Alex got up, and bowed a little bit to you, a smirk on his lips watching as you played along.
"Well then good sir, I crave ice cream from Jane's Sweet Tooth down the road!" You giggled, letting him get up from his playful bow.
As you both got ready to leave, the bell indicating someone entered the parlor rang, "Put your hands up!" The loud voice said, making both you and Alex turn around to see a mugger holding the cashier at gun point.
Quickly Alex grabbed your arm, pulling you behind him, hoping to shield you.
"Hurry up, I don't have all day man!" The mugger yelled, as the cashier fumbled with the money. Alex slowly tried to back away, making sure he went unnoticed by the man, although it didn't work.
The mugger turned around, his gun now facing both of you, "Hey now man, please just put the gun down, my sister is with me," Alex tried to negotiate with the man, waiting on a miracle, just wanting to make sure the man didn't end up shooting his baby sister.
Just as it looked like the mugger was about to run away, the sudden realization of what he was doing dawning on him, the GCPD sirens rang in the distance, this seemingly made him focus.
"Yeah well we got to do what we got to 'man'," Within a second you felt a sudden recoil, as Alex slowly started to fall down, making you fall to your knees, his weight pushing against you.
The mugger nervously shot at the light, making the parlor shop dim. You shakily called out Alex's name, feeling a sudden warm liquid pooling at your knees, quickly realizing what had happened.
"Alex?.." You said, trying to keep your brother awake, you lightly shook him, keeping him from closing his eyes.
All Alex could do was raise his hands to grab the end of his jacket, putting the hood over your head, as a final sense of comfort, before you felt his body go limp.
You sat there stunned, the mugger slowly pointed his gun to you, his hands shaking, the cashier still collecting the money, unsure what to do.
Suddenly the man was knocked down, his gun sliding across the place, landing in front of you.
You could only sit there stunned, all you saw was red. Swiftly you grabbed the gun, pointing it at the man, your face covered by the hood, the dim light not letting any of your features be seen.
"Don't" A deep voice, snapped you out of your trance. Robin, stood between you and the mugger, noticing the body behind you, he stood firm, "Two wrongs don't make a right,"
You looked between him and the man, you looked outside, cop lights shining in through the window.
Hesitantly you lowered the weapon, Robin slowly relaxed, grabbing the gun your grip as you backed away.
You looked back at your brother as Robin turned around to apprehend the man. Alex was limp, he was killed by that man, and you'd almost killed him too, but you didn't, you were stopped.
You felt so overwhelmed, you saw the GCPD start to make their way to the door, you couldn't be there while they arrested that man, you'd also tried to kill him.
Without thinking, you ran. You opened the back exit door and made a break into the alley.
"Hey wait-" Robin said, as he cuffed the criminal and unloaded the gun.
You didn't listen though, you just ran as far away as you could, you needed to get out of those bloody pants, you needed to call your mom, your brother was dead.
As you ran, you heard voices, "This way!" The police were chasing you, having seen you hold a gun at Robin they wanted to take you in as well, you looked around realizing this was a dead end.
'Shit, shit, shit," You internally thought, trying to grab something on the wall to get away.
As you did this you suddenly felt yourself stick to the wall, your hands not letting go. Confused but also in a rush you tried to climb the wall, and strangely enough you could.
Your hands sticking to each brick until you made it to the top, the police officers running to the now empty alleyway looked around, "Guess we lost them," one said to the other, as they turned around to report back.
You didn't know what was happening and it frankly was all scaring you, maybe this was just some sick dream, and you'd wake up to your mom making breakfast and Alex pulling you out of your bed.
Until then you knew you had to go home and call your mom to let her know what happened to her son.
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illusioncanthurtme--art · 3 months ago
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im curious, why do you like fiddlestan?
i like them in theory (all the pain potential, jeez!) but i feel like i'm missing something very obvious
Oh boy, you’re about to open pandoras box with this one -
I’ve liked fiddlestan for a LONG time, almost a decade now, (EXHIBIT A!!!), and honestly, I’ll admit that the ship is mostly based on speculation. So maybe you’re not missing something obvious, maybe I’m just delusional. I can’t speak for everyone, all I can do is explain why I like it: because it’s deeply rooted in several layers of irony. 
It’s ironic because fiddleford spent the better part of a YEAR dealing with fords nonsense. (And I KNOW, it’s not all bad, but really, especially if you read journal 3, that poor man was put through a LOT. He was definitely taken advantage of, at LEAST a little.) And after grappling with the acceptance that your longtime friend and unrequited love will never return your feelings, having lost the man to some crazy otherworldly nightmare machine, who shows up?? But his TWIN BROTHER who’s HUMBLE and KIND and TEN TIMES MORE DOWN TO EARTH?? It’s ironic, because they don’t know each other, yet they both have years of history with the same person who’s wronged them, and, they can make out about it!! THEY CAN FUCK TO SPITE HIM!! Stan stole his brothers name (and committed multiple crimes under said name), stole his house, and stole his research partner!! And… it's ironic because it’s Grunkle Stan and old man Mcgucket. That needs no elaboration.
(these are all my personal takes/headcanons! Like I said, this ship is based solely on interpretation, so I’m sure a lot of fiddlestanners like fiddauthor too. There’s like a billion different ways to interpret this ship.)
Also -
Their personalities are surprisingly similar when you stop and think about it!! You put those two in the same room, and they’d come up with some highly devilish scams together. They both have moral codes that are a little… ambiguous. And… I can’t believe I’m gonna pull this out as *canon fiddlestan documentation* but these are the kind of crumbs we’re working with here: MABELS DREAM IN THE SOCK OPERA CREDITS!!!! Although it’s not something that actually happened, and it’s just a reference to statler and waldorf, they are IN CHARACTER!! I think this is how they would actually act together if they were friends!! Just two old dudes, hanging out together watching tv, making fun of whatever they’re watching. If you’re in the room, you might get roasted too. Just a couple of old farts. It makes me so happy to think about. 
No fiddlestan rundown post would be complete without the fandoms EXTREME STRAW GRASP at Old Goldie and the Flame Retardant Raccoon. Soos calls mcgucket a “prospector guy,” amongst the other obvious comparisons you can make between fiddleford and goldie. Goldie is something stan used to like a long time ago, but he’s all old and fucked up now, best to throw him away and forget about it. BUT, as it turns out, there’s still good in that old thing after all. SO LETS GET MARRIED IN VEGAS!!!! It’s an extreme stretch, but… It’s a fiddlestan trope that they, at some point, have a crazy night of fun+romance in vegas together.  And I personally like to think that they return when they’re older+happy and tie the knot for reals. The raccoon speaks for itself - it’s one of the ways you can compare stan to a raccoon. And of course, mcgucket's raccoon wife. 
This is where it starts to get a little angsty, and if you “get all the pain potential” then you may have already given this some thought - but why does stan treat fiddleford the way he does if they used to love each other? The whole “UGH, this guy” comment in land before swine, looking all uncomfortable around him in fight fighters, choosing the spot furthest from where mcgucket lotions himself at the pool, and the “possum breath” comment in the last episode (and fiddleford actually has the mental clarity to look perturbed after he says it). Stan is hurt!!! He’s upset!! If they used to be a Thing after the portal incident, something must have happened between them for fiddlefords mental illness to get the better of him, and for him to choose to erase both stan and ford from his memories. I, personally, think that it was deep rooted internal homophobia (being raised in the south, that runs deep), and being scared for getting too close to stan. They were getting too comfortable, and that scared him. What about his family? And tate? His son can never meet stan. He can never let his wife know. And all the paranormal fuckery incidents leading up to this that already weakened his mental state, the portal incident, already having zapped his brain a few times, would have sent him over the edge. So I’m thinking they would have gotten into a fight of some kind, and fiddleford would have stormed off. Thus leaving stan having to live in a town with the person he USED to love, who doesn’t remember him at all!!! What!!!!! That sucks!!!! Only upside to fiddlefords memory erasure is that it makes it easier for stan to pretend nothing ever happened. But it’s still not easy. Also, if word ever got out that old man mcgucket used to be his boyfriend, he would never be able to live it down. So he compensates by being an ass towards him. Fuck. 
But then!! If fiddleford has the chance to heal!!! (say… maybe… when the twins are on the stan o war II) then stan would come back to gravity falls and see fiddleford looking like the person he knew thirty years ago!!!! WHAT!?!?! CAN’T RUN FROM YOUR PAST FOREVER, CAN YOU!?!?! And you KNOW fiddleford would remember what happened with stan. How long can stan keep himself in denial?? And now we’re opening up the can of worms: how the FUCK does this information reach ford?? That your brother used to canoodle with your research partner and might STILL BE?? That has so much potential too. 
Ok I wasn’t expecting to write those last two paragraphs but it’s A BIG PART OF WHY I LOVE FIDDLESTAN!!! It’s a crazy fucking rollercoaster ride!!! This thing has so many angles!!! And that’s just MY fiddlestan interpretation - I’ve seen a lot of different takes on the sort of story that would transpire between these two. But no matter what you’re cooking, It’s always a LOT. 
There’s probably so so much I didn’t touch on here. If anyone else wants to throw in their two cents as to why they like fiddlestan, please, add something!!!
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alexsoenomel · 2 months ago
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Being two golden retrievers in love (Sam Winchester headcanons)
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I'm slowly falling in love with writing Sam
Reading the same book at the same time and discussing it over dinner
You being a junk food addict like his brother and Sam telling you to watch your diet knowing damn well you have a sensitive stomach and eating greasy burgers every two days was not the way to go
"I'll be fine Sam. Don't worry."
You not listening of course and ending up with severe stomach cramps
"Well, I should have listened to you."
"You think?"
You playing with his hair before bed because that was now the only way he would actually fall asleep
Sam loved being the big spoon and refusing to let you wake up before him (you were both early birds)
"Sammy I need to make breakfast."
"Five more minutes."
Physical touch was a big thing in your relationship, especially holding hands.
Sam loved taking you out on dates: dinners, museums, ice cream, movies... anything that comes to mind. He loved spending time with you.
Sam loved watching you do mundane things: washing dishes, cleaning, researching, cooking...you would look so peaceful and he found beauty in simplicity
Sam loved cooking for you
You loved giving him gifts, especially something that reminded you of him
One time you bought him a cookbook of healthy recipes because he said one time he lacked creativity in cooking
"You shouldn't have..."
"Yeah well it's your fault I feel in love with you and now I just want to buy you stuff and love you until I die."
Every month you had to take a couple of days off work because of your damn period and Sam would text and let you know how much he was missing you
I miss you. I have trouble falling asleep. Dean's snoring like a damn buzzsaw.
I miss you too Sammy. I need your hugs :(
We should be done in two days max, baby. I miss hugging you.
Please be careful my love
Don't worry I will. I love you so much see you soon
I love you too Sammy
The relationship between you two was peaceful and filled with nothing but love and understanding
3am conversations were a regular thing since you both had trouble sleeping especially when dealing with a case
Sex was always...intense
Even though Sam was a sweetheart in the bedroom was a whole different story.
He was rough, loved dominating you and above all loved seeing you come undone.
He made sure you were satisfied in more ways than one. His needs would always come second.
You would protest, of course, and tell him to let you take care of him, but he didn't wanna hear it.
"Please let me take care of you, Sam."
"Later."
You both loved nature so spending time hiking was a regular thing.
"Where are you two going and Sam why are you wearing shorts?" Dean asked you once and when you told him where you were going he just stood there confused and then said: "You two deserve each other."
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g1rld1ary · 4 months ago
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hope your requests r open! lockwood x reader where lockwood think reader likes george (but she doesnt) and reader thinks lockwood likes lucy (he doesnt). basically just a whole bunch of misunderstandings with angst and a happy ending please <3
miscommunications - anthony lockwood x fem!reader
wc: 6316
cw: swearing, angstish, series typical injuries
i am SO sorry this took so long lovie i had the biggest writers block but i loved loved loved this request so thank u for sending it in i hope i did it justice!!!! love u xoxo
Lockwood and Co was absolutely the weirdest psychical detective agency you’d ever been a part of. Not only were the actual case methods… unusual, but you were a bunch of kids. You didn’t know anything about running a company; the logistics of managing four teenagers and trying to be responsible whilst also experiencing hormones and teen dramas, all while living in the same house with no adult supervision. But it was great, most of the time at least.
However, even teen psychical detectives weren’t immune to the trap of cliques and you often ended up spending much more time with some members than others. For example, it often ended up being Lockwood and Lucy, and you and George.
It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision or something that happened because you didn’t like the other two members of the agency, it just tended to be the easiest decision. Lockwood and Lucy were undeniably in perfect sync on the field, and you and George worked better in the research department, so it only made sense that those pairs spent more time together.
The only problem? You were totally in love with Lockwood. And you were pretty sure he was basically fucking married to Lucy Carlyle. They were the dream team on and off the field, you were half convinced they could actually read each other's minds. Plus, they were both genuinely amazing people. Lucy was your best friend and roommate at Portland Row, and you loved her with all your heart. And Lockwood? Well, there were a million and one good things to say about Anthony Lockwood. So who could blame you if you spent more time with George? It hurt less than watching the love story unfolding in front of you, and George was good company anyhow.
You couldn’t avoid them though, nor did you really want to, so life was testing your limits as to how much Locklyle you could handle at once.
You and George had been cooped up in the library most of the day looking through archives and research for the agency’s next case, so you’d been glad to get home and have a long warm shower in the evening. Lockwood and Lucy were off on a smaller case together so you’d had the bathroom all to yourself while George was cooking; a small luxury when living with three other teenagers.
Your hair was still wet as you sat down at the dining table in the kitchen, droplets sinking into the paper of the thinking cloth. It was a lovely dinner with George, he’d made your favourite meal upon request, the most glorious dish of butter chicken you thought might’ve ever been made. Everything should have been perfect, except that it was just the two of you. Again. It seemed like you never had family dinners as a four anymore, you and George stuck eating across from each other amongst empty chairs and untouched plates.
“So, anything new?” You made conversation in decent humour, picking at the chicken you weren’t quite as pleased to be eating anymore.
“Anything new in the twenty minutes we’ve been apart all day?” George replied in his characteristic dry tone. You rolled your eyes, trying to stay playful.
“Just checking.”
You took the cleanup after George did all the cooking, switching on the radio as you stood in front of the sink and washing the dishes in peaceful quiet. It was past midnight when the door jingled and creaked open and you could hear Lockwood and Lucy’s tired chatter floating through the old house. Even their damn voices belonged together, making the perfect cadence. You calculated whether you could get away with running up the stairs and pretending to be asleep before they really made it inside, however, agents are known for their speed, and you could hear boots hitting the floor before you could move.
“You’re still up?” Lucy asked as a greeting, stretching out her arms with a sigh. You smiled, shrugging as you began pouring hot water into the mugs you’d prepared earlier, making you all tea how you liked it. Lucy took hers gratefully, adding in the sugar as she pleased, but you were still yet to see Lockwood, taking the initiative to prepare it for him.
He came in a few minutes later, smiling softly as he looked at you.
“You’re a godsend.” He took the mug gratefully, visibly relaxing as the heat penetrated his body. You just smiled, turning back to the dishes.
“Thanks for the tea, I’ll head up to the shower,” Lucy said, patting you gratefully on the arm as she passed. That left you and Lockwood in the kitchen in careful silence.
You talked about nothing for a while, Lockwood filling you in on the tabloids he’d read the night before, and you told him all about the music and news you’d been listening to on the radio.
“How was the research, how’s George?” Lockwood was beside you now, taking a few of the plates you’d finished drying. His tone sounded almost bitter, but you figured it was his exhaustion taking hold.
“It was fine, I think we’re pretty much good to go for this weekend. Oh, you should have seen it! George absolutely stacked it on the steps of the library earlier. He’s fine, of course, but I nearly pissed my pants laughing, it was so funny.” Lockwood managed an unenthused chuckle, turning away to put the cutlery away in the drawer. “How was the case?” Lockwood made a noise of affirmation, coming back next to you, your shoulders brushing lightly.
“As well as cases can go,” He said, smile back on his face. You listened to him tell the bloody details of the case, illustrating his own heroic moves with a full production of actions and impressions, drawing giggles from you as he fought around the room. “And of course, Luce was brilliant as always, saved my arse for the millionth time.”
Fuck. Of course Lockwood was singing Lucy’s praises again, right in front of you! You couldn’t catch a break. You finally got a moment alone with the boy you had a massive embarrassing crush on and he was talking about your best friend! You could feel your smile fading fast, jealousy bubbling in your chest as you imagined them out on a case together, all quick banter and soft touches while you were at home. With George.
You tried to stay obliging, giving him a small smile and finishing up the drying quickly.
“Well, I should be off to bed. Goodnight, Lockwood.”
“You’re not gonna read with me?” You could have sworn that Lockwood had disappeared and been replaced with a kicked puppy the way his eyes were making your insides twist with guilt. You often sat up in the library with Lockwood; he could never sleep and you often made up for the late nights in the mornings, starting your days hours after everyone else. You held eye contact for a moment, willing yourself to be strong.
It didn’t work, and you found yourself back in your familiar spot in front of the fire, digging into your novel as he flipped through a magazine. When your eyes began to strain in the low lamplight you closed it softly, chancing a glance over at Lockwood. He looked almost perfect in the moment, yellow light illuminating the highlights in his face, his eyes glinting as he found humour in the dramatised tabloids.
He looked up suddenly, his senses evidently alerting him to your staring. His head tilted almost imperceptibly, curiosity seeping from his features. You smiled softly, unable to give him any explanation, so you were glad when he returned it in a way that made his whole face light up. You looked away first, studying your hands intently as you heard Lockwood breathe a subtle laugh.
Another case later, you were going crazy. You’d hit an obstacle (of course) and the case had started going awry. A few relicmen interfering with the site threw you all off your game, the original case put aside in favour of your lives. You and Lucy had been together when the ambush happened, both fighting as a team to protect yourselves. Admittedly you weren’t as fluid as her and Lockwood, but you blamed that on the lack of opportunity. You were doing pretty well for yourselves, all things considered. Still, you were grateful for the two boys to come bursting in like heroes, rapiers at the ready. What you didn’t appreciate was the way Lockwood immediately leapt to Lucy’s side, falling into their familiar rhythm. That left George to help you, the both of you sharing the quickest of looks, your eye roll lost to the fight.
You’d all made it out alive but were severely battered and disheartened. You’d all sustained a few cuts and bruises, you knew you were bleeding from somewhere in your midsection, but the adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet so you pushed through.
You also weren’t particularly glad to see Lockwood looking at Lucy like she’d hung all the stars in the sky in the cab on the way back. He hadn’t spared you a glance.
“I know this wasn’t exactly what we planned,” He said, still not making eye contact with you, “But we’re all okay so I think that’s a win. Luce, good job on the defence and keeping the relicmen at bay. George, brilliant catch with the source, mate, you saved us all. And, uh, good work.” He looked over briefly, but you thought he was looking slightly above you still. He didn’t even care enough to look at you on the case! It was absolutely maddening.
Sometimes, like now, you wondered why you even liked him. He was obsessed with another girl, barely paid you attention and had you begging for crumbs of affection. And yet, sometimes you were sure he liked you back. The soft smiles, the time together in the dead of night, the moments he showed you such gentle care. Lockwood was a puzzle you just couldn’t solve, but you were really, really trying.
You weren’t in the best mood when you all arrived home. Your case had been compromised, you were injured, and Lockwood was basically ignoring you. The night was not looking good. And, on top of all that, George called the first shower so it was unlikely there’d be any hot water left by the time you got in. Silently, you peeled off your overcoat, hanging it on your designated hook before discarding your rapier in the umbrella bin. The cut on your side was beginning to sting, the adrenaline having worn off in the cab, but you powered through, figuring you’d take care of it when you had privacy in the bathroom. Instead, you followed Lucy into the kitchen, chatting away as she made some toast.
She’d already left when you got up from the dining table, motivating yourself to make some tea and something to eat. Your body was starting to ache though, and you really didn’t want to be moving much longer. It was all mostly fine, though uncomfortable, until you were reaching up for the sugar for the tea. It was a little out of your reach up on one of the higher cupboards which usually wasn’t so much of an issue — you were a high jumper — but raising your arm above your head was making it feel like your cut was splitting open, pulling a strangled hiss from you.
“What is that?” Lockwood’s voice made you jump, the harshness unfamiliar. You turned slowly, folding your arms across your stomach in vain.
“It’s nothing, I was gonna look after it in a bit.” It was the first time you’d made proper eye contact with Lockwood all night, and he looked pissed.
“Bullshit,” He argued, gaining proximity, “Sit down.” You weren’t typically in the habit of being bossed around by a man, but you could tell Lockwood was serious so took a seat. He stomped around the kitchen rather dramatically, tossing you an ice pack from the freezer. You placed it tentatively over the cut, groaning and throwing your head back when it stung. Your breathing was shallow, erratic as you waited for the icepack to do its job and start numbing the pain.
When you unscrewed your eyes Lockwood was standing at the kitchen bench, aggressively buttering your toast. You watched him put together the meal you’d started, all with deep furrowed eyebrows, ending with him placing it in front of you, looking at you expectantly. You smiled at him despite the pain in your side, pulling the mug of tea closer. He’d made it just as you liked it, too much sugar and a bit of honey. You sipped it pathetically, tension bubbling between you and the boy in front of you.
“What’s new?” You asked in what you hoped was a lighthearted tone. Lockwood wasn’t impressed.
“Eat,” He urged, “You’ll already be weak from blood loss, don’t let yourself get dizzy from hunger too.” You took an exaggerated bite of the toast to appease him, melting into a moan when the food hit your mouth. Somehow, it tasted better than all the millions of times you’d made your own. Lockwood had found the perfect balance of butter and bread, soft in the middle but the crusts were still crunchy and satisfying. The corner of his mouth flicked into the smallest smile seeing you enjoy the food he’d made you, but it was clear he still wasn’t happy with you.
You continued to eat as he got up from his seat, disappearing out into the hallway for a moment. He returned with the first aid kit and you groaned. This was going to suck. Lockwood, ever the gentleman, asked for your permission to start helping you, lifting your already cherry red case shirt up to tuck under your bra, out of his way as he examined the cut. It wasn’t too deep, you didn’t think you’d need stitches or anything, but it was long, wrapping halfway across your stomach.
“This is going to hurt,” He said simply, but you could have sworn there was some gentleness there. Lightly, Lockwood began to clean your wound. Initially, it wasn’t so bad as he cleaned what had already spread and dried away from the cut which lulled you into a false sense of security. You cried out as he touched the wound itself for the first time, grabbing onto Lockwood’s shoulder for stability, though you were already seated.
“It’s okay, I’ll be quick. Promise,” He hushed you, offering his hand for you to grab instead. You clutched onto it for dear life, squeezing until both your fingers were turning white. Lockwood never uttered a complaint, working away at cleaning and treating the wound one-handed until it was done, stopping every so often for breaks when he thought you needed them.
When he was done he looked up at you from his position on his knees and it suddenly felt like the world around you was quiet. Lockwood’s eyes were so pretty. You’d always thought so, but it was particularly relevant when he was only inches away from you, sparkling in the amber light of the kitchen. Neither of you spoke, staring into each other’s eyes. You weren’t sure what to do, you didn’t want to end this moment between you but you didn’t know how to make it last. Well, you did, but that was highly inappropriate given Lockwood was in love with another girl.
“Thanks,” You settled on awkwardly, cringing as Lockwood seemed to realise where he was and what was happening.
“Any time,” He jumped up, backing up towards the sink and busying himself with pouring his own cup of tea.
You left the kitchen shortly after, unwilling to sit in the awkwardness any longer. The first step was to get out of the soiled clothes and clean yourself up a bit, the second was to flop back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling of the attic.
“I’m going to die alone,” You said to the roof, catching the attention of your roommate.
“Don’t be stupid,” Lucy said simply, “You’re hot, anyone would be lucky to have you.” That pulled a smile from you, tilting your head back to look over at Lucy on her bed.
“Thanks, Luce. You know what I mean though.” Lucy rolled her eyes with a soft smile.
“If Lockwood can’t see all your brilliant, attractive qualities then he’s a prat.”
“I’m sure he sees many of my great qualities — he hired me. The issue is that he’s blinded by your brilliance.” It was a conversation you’d had countless times before; you decreeing Lockwood’s love for Lucy and Lucy being disgusted by it.
“You know that I have zero interest in Lockwood. Like, zero. Honestly, I’d sooner get with you than him.”
“Alright, alright, I get it. I have terrible taste in men,” You laughed, mostly cheered up.
Lucy flicked off the lamp, putting you to sleep with a story from before you’d joined the agency.
Lockwood had a similar conversation with George a few weeks later. It was after another case, all had gone well and the four of you were strewn about the house, tending to various chores that needed to get done. Lucy was mopping the floors, you were organising and putting away the mountain of books that had been used over the case, and Lockwood and George were both in the basement, tidying the store room and going over paperwork.
Lockwood looked at George, hunched over the form he was filling in, and wondered how to broach the subject. He thought you might’ve been avoiding him lately, which wasn’t exactly wrong, and thought it might be because you were trying to make your feelings for George known. In fact, it had nothing to do with George and everything to do with Lockwood. You figured if Lockwood hadn’t noticed by now that you liked him he never would, so you’d started the mountainous task of getting over him. It was unsurprisingly extremely difficult, given you lived and worked with the man. Still, you were doing the best you could.
“So, gone on any, uh, dates recently?” The sentence was awkward and Lockwood cringed. It was so unlike him and George to talk about anything emotional, especially romance.
“What are you on about?” George didn’t even bother looking up, figuring it was just one of Lockwood’s moments that he’d move on from soon enough.
“It’s just, you’ve never really dated anyone, at least while living here, so I was just asking. Um, maybe there’s someone in the house you’d like to take out?” George looked up, turning his wheelie chair to face Lockwood, resigning himself to the conversation he knew would follow.
“Yes, Lockwood. Can’t you hear Lucy and I having loud, passionate sex every night?” Both boys rolled their eyes.
“That’s not what I meant,” Lockwood grumbled.
“Then say what you mean. You’re trying to figure out if I like her because you do and you’re too scared to say anything about it.” Lockwood was silenced, caught out with his true intentions. “Let’s face it, you’re about as subtle as a car horn; you moon over her. She’s the only one who hasn’t noticed.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Lockwood mumbled, “She likes you.” George burst out into uncharacteristic laughter, wheezing and gripping his stomach.
“God, you’re daft!” He laughed, “The two of you are perfect for each other, you’re hopeless.”
Lockwood made an excuse to leave, something about folding his laundry. George watched him go, rolling his eyes before turning back to his paperwork. If the two of you weren’t going to get his exceedingly obvious hints, you were going to have to work it out between yourselves.
Your angst was bleeding into the company. You were trying (and failing) to get over Lockwood which was not only making you generally miserable, but it was impeding your ability to be a good agent.
You were on a relatively easy case, and for some reason you’d been paired with Lockwood, a rarity. Lucy and George were on the second floor of the house scoping out where the source may be whilst you and Lockwood were on the ground floor, preparing your defences and putting on the tea kettle. It was extremely awkward. Lockwood was trying to make conversation and you were trying to keep it as short as possible. If you fell into conversation you’d be reminded of Lockwood’s many wonderful qualities, and it would just get harder to get over him.
“Did you end up finishing that book?” He asked as you pulled the chains out of their duffel bags. You perked up for a moment before forcing yourself to relax. You had finished the novel and absolutely loved it, you wanted nothing more than to talk about it. Still, you controlled yourself, shrugging off the question with a “Yeah, it was pretty good.” Lockwood hesitated, caught off guard by your answer. Usually you were keen to discuss what you’d been reading, especially if you liked it.
“Are you alright?” He asked, softness in his voice and eyes. Your heart clenched for a moment, you didn’t want to worry him.
“I’m fine, Lockwood, promise.” You busied yourself with arranging the salt bombs but you could still feel his eyes on you.
The case progressed, all four of you ending up on the second level of the house to confront the visitor, each splitting up to cover the different rooms. You were in the master bedroom when the en suite bathroom caught your eye. You could have sworn you saw movement near the shower and crept towards it, trying to stay focused and address the urgency on hand.
You were immediately distracted by the similarities between the en suite and the bathroom in Portland Row. Set out almost identically, it was almost scary how similar they were; George’s soap (fancy and way more expensive than the one the rest of you bought) was on the ledge of the shower, and Lucy’s blue hairbrush sat by the basin.
It wasn’t necessarily surprising that either of those items were there, they were both bought for cheap at a grocery store so ought to have been common, but it surprised you nonetheless. You’d been so distracted by the weird similarities that you didn’t notice the figure floating through the shower curtain until its translucent hand was beside your face. You panicked, the only thing you shouldn’t have been doing, and flailed about in the tiny room, rapier knocking bottles off shelves and creating a general racket that was not pleasing the ghost.
You stumbled on the tiles trying to get your footing and get the fuck out but slid on a slippery substance — probably conditioner from the bottle you’d sent flying to the ground. It was a comedy of errors you would have quoted as impossible in an old slapstick comedy, but there you were, and the consequences were infinitely more dire than those faced by Charlie Chaplin.
The proceeding moments vanished from your memory; a violent fall, a sickening crack and an overwhelming darkness. Three more moments of light where you caught visions of the ghost, Lockwood, and aggressive flashing lights.
You woke up in hospital. You wished it was the hazy, unsure innocence that you saw in movies, but the incessant beeping and sanitised smell had you groaning as you gained consciousness. Lockwood was slumped over in the chair next to your bed, breathing uncharacteristically calm as he slept.
You watched him sleep in the least creepy way you could manage, admiring his features when they weren’t scrunched up in worry or stress. He must’ve felt you watching him as his eyes fluttered open, doe eyes overflowing with relief as he saw you awake.
“You’re up, thank god,” He said, pulling his chair up even closer to you.
“Why am I here?” You asked, examining the various wires and machines you were plugged into.
“What aren’t you here for?” Lockwood joked and you tried for a smile. He straightened himself out and continued, “Linear skull fracture, concussion, scary-looking cut on your forehead. We think you slipped and bashed your head on the countertop.” You grimaced, the pain of the fall manifesting in your head.
“That would be right,” You agreed sheepishly, shifting uncomfortably in your hospital gown, “And the hand?” Your left hand was bandaged up so thick it looked more like an oven mitt than a hand.
“Ghost touch.” Lockwood didn’t sound so happy and casual now.
“Oh.”
“What happened? It’s not like you to put yourself in danger like that; it was stupid and reckless.” You didn’t understand why Lockwood was getting so angry. Clearly, you didn’t intend to get injured, it was an unfortunate accident that you would have avoided if you could.
“As opposed to you, who never gets injured and always sticks to the plan?” You couldn’t help the venom seeping into your voice but you detested being criticised by Lockwood when he was just as bad, usually worse.
“This isn’t about me,” He said through gritted teeth, clearly trying to keep his cool while you were vulnerable. You were angry though and didn’t want to back down.
“Of course this is about you, Lockwood! You wouldn’t blink an eye if it was you who’d ended up here, or George or Lucy. It was an honest mistake, why are you being such a dick about it?” You were raising your voice but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, the tension that had been bubbling for weeks coming to the surface.
“Because you could have died —”
“So could any of us, that’s the job! I still see you jumping head-first into danger.”
Lockwood groaned your name, hands in his hair and pulling in frustration. “You’re misunderstanding me, I just don’t want to watch you get hurt—”
“Then close your fucking eyes, Lockwood. I fell and I got injured. It happens and I resent having you treat me differently than the others. Fuck this, I want Lucy here instead, or George.”
“Of course you want George here, why wouldn’t you?”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” If you could stand you would be shoving past him and out the door, but you were at a significant disadvantage being hooked up to so many machines, stuck in your place.
“You know what I mean, you and George are such a close pair, aren’t you? Always working together and laughing about your own inside jokes,” He spat and the burning anger only got hotter.
“Are you fucking crazy right now? Or are you forgetting that you’re the head of this company and therefore you’re the one pairing us together in every case? Or are you so fucking busy making heart eyes at Lucy that you don’t even notice that we’re actually getting work done? Forgive us for trying to make ten hours of research bearable!”
“Heart eyes at Luce? You’re the crazy one, she and I are just friends, I swear. But you and George will make a great couple, I’m sure.”
“George and I couldn’t be less interested in each other! And if you could see past your own nose for once maybe you’d see why!” You all but yelled, surely alerting the whole floor of your argument, “Leave me alone, Lockwood, I don’t want you here anymore.”
Lockwood looked as if he was going to dispute that statement as well but a nurse came to your rescue, clearly hearing the disagreement from outside. She ushered him out, claiming it wasn’t good for your vitals to be getting angry and that you could continue the fight when you were discharged in a few day's time.
Alone in the sterile hospital room, you felt yourself beginning to cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and landing on your embarrassing patterned hospital gown. In a perfect world, that conversation would have gone completely differently. In a perfect world, Lockwood’s eyes would have softened when he saw you were awake. He would have confessed how worried he was about you and how much he truly cared for you. He would have brushed his lips across your hand that he was holding, then pressed them again against your own as he admitted how he’d always been in love with you. You didn’t know that it was your own defensive nature that had stopped that from happening.
But it wasn’t a perfect world and you were alone, overwhelmed by the various noises and movements going on around you. You did eventually fall back asleep, a fitful, unsatisfying nap that had you groaning and exhausted when you woke up. You weren’t alone though, which did make you feel better. George and Lucy were sitting next to your bed, deep in a whispered conversation.
“Hey,” You said, shimmying up to a sitting position. They both stopped talking immediately, turning to face you with small smiles on both their faces.
“How are you feeling?” Lucy asked, pulling her chair up to be right next to your bed.
“I’m alright now, just tired and worn down.”
“You scared us,” George added, characteristically stiff but clearly trying to be sensitive.
“I’m sorry,” You admitted, “I really didn’t mean to. And believe me, Lockwood’s already yelled at me enough for it, please just forgive me.” They looked at each other, communicating non-verbally.
“We heard,” George said, “He basically punched a hole in the wall trying to recount it.” He let out a clipped laugh before Lucy shoved him, signature glare working its magic.
“You should really apologise, he’s cut up about it.” Your mouth dropped open as you stared at Lucy. How was this your fault?
“I’m not apologising, he was the one who got angry. Right, George?” You pleaded with him, praying he wouldn’t let you down now.
“I… I don’t think it has to be right now, but you two should get over it after you’ve cooled down a bit.” Ok, it wasn’t exactly what you’d hoped he’d say, but it was better than nothing. And better than the moral lesson you knew Lucy would try and impose — what a hypocrite.
“But he was so mean!” You whined, “I seriously just had an unfortunate fall, I didn’t die.”
“But you could have,” George quipped and you rolled your eyes.
“You know it’s because he really cares about you, right? He’d never forgive himself if something happened to you and he couldn’t save you.” You couldn’t tell if Lucy’s statement was making you feel better or worse.
“Yeah, really felt like it when he was yelling at me,” You grumbled, fidgeting with the hem of the scratchy blanket.
“Well, you know Lockwood is emotionally constipated,” George added and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter — what a statement to come from George.
“OK,” You agreed finally, “I’ll apologise when we get home. As long as he stops being a massive prick.”
You were discharged a few days later, healing nicely. It would have been sooner, but the head injury worried your nurses and kept you there, not trusting you would stay on bed rest. Lucy came to your rescue, posing as a very concerned caretaker who would ensure your safety.
In fact, it wasn’t Lucy who was enforcing your bedrest. It was George who was cooking every meal and Lockwood doing all the other motherly fussing. You hadn’t discussed your fight yet, both too exhausted and too awkward to broach the subject. You hoped your six-to-eight-week recovery time wouldn’t consist of the same heavy tiredness, but you figured it would improve once the concussion had faded.
The rest of the company had started doing two-man cases so that someone was always home to supervise you. It was a little stifling but you appreciated the effort. It also shook up the status quo of the company, Lockwood and Lucy’s perfect partnership being disrupted by no one wanting to be left at home each time, which was both a blessing and a curse.
In your first few days of being back home at Portland Row, Lockwood was home with you, helping wash your hair. You’d whined so much about how gross it felt, still blood-stained where you cracked your skull open that Lockwood gave up and told you he’d wash it for you. Of course, you’d protested, saying it went way beyond what you could expect of a friend or coworker, but Lockwood would not take no for an answer, justifying that it would be more dangerous to let you do it yourself since you could mess with the stitches since you couldn’t see the back of your own head.
You sat awkwardly in the bath, dressed in an old t-shirt and bikini bottoms to preserve what dignity you could. Lockwood stood outside the bath behind you, preparing the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to his side. The anticipation was destroying you, becoming fidgety and uncomfortable even in the perfectly warm water. The second Lockwood’s slender fingers threaded through your greasy hair you felt your body soften, relaxing into the feeling with no opposition. The feeling was heavenly, the careful but thorough massaging of your scalp could have sent you to sleep in three seconds if you weren’t simultaneously on edge at the proximity.
You sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head lolling back subconsciously against Lockwood’s forearms, drawing a small chuckle from him.
“I’m sorry for arguing with you the other day,” You said out of the blue, your voice cutting through the radio that was sitting next to the basin.
“It’s no worries, just forget about it,” Lockwood replied instantly, continuing his labours.
“No, I want to take this seriously. I said some terrible things I didn’t mean and I want you to know that I’m sorry for it. And, as I understand it you think I have some big crush on George which I would just like to disprove. I don’t. Like him like that, I mean.” Lockwood paused for a moment, hands going still in your hair.
“Oh,” He said after some time, “Well thank you for the apology but it is completely unnecessary. I started the argument and I was way out of line, I didn’t mean a word of it. What I meant to convey was that I was worried about you getting hurt because I… care about you. A lot.” You knew that was hard for Lockwood to say, vulnerability never coming easy to him. You turned to face him in the tub, knees pulled up to your chest as your just-rinsed hair dripped down onto your t-shirt.
“I care about you a lot too, Lockwood,” You smiled sweetly, glad you were finally getting over the weird tension that had been between you. Lockwood didn’t look as satisfied.
“No, it’s, fuck. I care about you in a different way than the others. I really like you, like, romantically.”
“Shut up,” You said quickly, not wanting to wake up from a sick dream. There was no way that Anthony Lockwood, after all these years, was telling you that he liked you. Lockwood looked lost for words. Obviously it wasn’t the impassioned reciprocation he hoped for, but it also wasn’t exactly a rejection. What was he supposed to do?
“I, uh, understand if you don’t—”
“Shut up,” You affirmed again. “I have been madly, foolishly in love with you since I started here, and you’re telling me this now? After we’ve screamed at each other and been moping around?” After a moment of him processing your statement, he began to laugh, mouth breaking into one of his light-up-the-room smiles.
“I guess so.” You joined in his laughter, admiring the way his eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched as he did it.
“So what now?” You asked once your giggles had died down, leaving you two looking at each other across the edge of the bath.
“Well,” Lockwood inched closer, “We could try this?” He leant in for a soft kiss, pressing his mouth against yours lightly. You subconsciously followed his mouth as he pulled away, unwilling to open your eyes just yet.
“Mmh, maybe we could try that one again?” Lockwood laughed at your daze and happily obliged, swooping back in for a longer, deeper kiss that set your nerves on fire.
And if Lucy and George returned from their case to find the two of you still in the bath fully clothed, that was none of your business — and neither was the ten pounds that George reluctantly handed Lucy.
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redbullgirly · 11 months ago
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hi hi can i request a max verstappen x footballer smau but she plays for real madrid femenino and we know max is an fcb supporter (also for the sake of the smau, real madrid femenino can be just as good as barcelona femeni) and everyone going crazy when she just takes him to an award ceremony as her plus-one. no soft launch no hard launch and everyone including the grid and christian horner and madristas and everyone is shocked
MADRIDISTAS [MV1/33]
Max Verstappen x footballer!RealMadridFemenino!reader
Masterlist
Summary: Y/N is one of the biggest rising stars in women's football, playing for Real Madrid Femenino. When she's nominated by Women's Football Awards for the Player of the Year, the last thing anybody would expect is her plus one to the ceremony being Formula One driver, Max Verstappen. Not only is he the World Champion himself, but most importantly, Max is a known FC Barcelona fan. Talk about making friends with the enemy...
Warnings: I have very limited knowledge of football, so everything in this story is based on my quick research. If you're a fan, please don't come for me! Though any advice would be much appreciated, because I have more football requests in my inbox XD.
Author's Note: Hi Anon, thanks for the request! I have to say it was quite challenging for me at the start, because I don't know many things about football, but at the end it turned out fun and good. Hope you like what I did with this social media au! :)
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yourusername And it's a wrap!🥈⚽️ Thank you to the whole team for another amazing year, we fought hard and we will continue to fight for the Champions League title next year as 2023/24 runners-up. Hala Madrid!✨🇪🇸
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user1 Love the way you play!
realmadridfem Hala Madrid!💪🏆
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yourusername 💯
user2 💥💥💥
user3 Vamosssss
user4 GO GIRLLL🤩🤩🤩🤩
user5 you really deserved to win the finale, the referee was totally biased agains you!!!
user6 Yeah, even as a FC Barcelona fan I didn't think it was fair🙈
martagarcialopez19 amazing Y/N! 🫶
yourusername Thank youuu!💖
user7 wait does y/n know some people from motosport???
user8 No I think it's just girls supporting girls in sports dominated by men tbh ☺️
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user7 oh yeah that makes sense
user9 Buen trabajo que equipo tan bueno con todas y en lo personal muy guapa [Good job, what a great team with everyone and personally very pretty.]
marisabel_rguez The dream team 🙌
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yourusername Yessss
user10 HALA MADRID 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
user11 literally the prettiest soccer player I ever saw😻
user12 you mean FOOTBALL?!😂🧐
user11 sry i'm american so i'm used to saying soccer
user12 well that's WRONG girly😂
user13 Princess
messages between Y/N and Max
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yourusername Short stop back home in Monaco before flying to London for Women's Football Awards and my nomination for Player of the Year 🤞🌷
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user1 so pretty
maitetxuu_10 The nails Y/N 🤩
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yourusername Not better than yours though 😚
user2 i don't watch football but maybe i should start bc of you
user3 Wow you're such a cutie 😍❤️
charlottesiine great work out together!
yourusername Agreed! We should definetly hit the gym together more often 😂
user4 omg wait how do they know each other?? didn't expect y/n y/l/n to be friends with ex-wags??
user5 Idk but they both live in Monaco so it's easy to know basically everyone who's your age there xdd
yourusername True user5, they don't tell you how small the country actually is 😭
user6 SHE IS MY ROLE MODEL EVERYBODY
user7 👏👏👏👏🔥🔥
lucybrozne Seems like the Monaco sun suits you 😁☀️
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yourusername Oh thanks Lucy! 🫶
lucybrozne 🫶
user8 i love that despite fcb beating madrid they're still friends outside of the field🥺
user9 WOW you should be a model
user10 So sad your talents aren’t being fully appreciated in Madrid.
user11 oh c'mmon she probably wouldn't play for them if she felt unappreciated 🙄
user12 but tbh I think she should be the captain.... like she's literally the best player of them all BY FAR
user13 Nah I don't like her. Hope she'll never be a captain🤮
user12 then go away? lol
user13 damnn the 3rd picture did some unholy things to me 😩
user14 right?! I don't think I'm straight anymore🫣
user15 I have no idea who she is but let me tell you she's gorgeous
user16 ✨✨✨👑🎀🌹
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messages between Max and Christian Horner & Max and Carlos Sainz
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yourusername Turning him into Madridista duh.
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maxverstappen1 Y/N I love you... but that's never happening ❤️
yourusername Liar! You complained for a week straight about how that referee in the finals wasn't fair and we should have won agains Barcelona! 😘
carlossainz55 hahaaa mate she got you😂
maxverstappen1 😒
user1 OMGGG we converted him on our side!!!
user2 A sad day to be a FC Barcelona supporter and F1 fan😓
user3 A happy day for Madridistas!😍
user4 damn I may have to start watching football
martagarcialopez19 you're glowing! also thanks god now I don't have to keep the secret anymore xd
yourusername Love ya! 🫶
user5 The IT WAG
user6 can we take a moment to appreciate how cute maxie looks here?🥹
realmadridfem You go girl! Convert new fans!🤩💪
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user7 I'm still shocked by this whole thing 😹
user8 you're not the only one lol
user9 the second picture????
user10 Max is so lucky man🥵
marisabel_rquez ¡La pareja poderosa!😍 [The power couple!😍]
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user11 this post murdered me and dragged me all over slaycity with how much it served 🤭
user12 exactly! her and max are so hot and pretty
user13 🤍😍💯🥳 Hala Madrid!!!
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maxverstappen1 My girl ❤️⚽️
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THE END
Author's Note: Thank you for reading the whole thing! I'll appreciate likes, reblogs, follows and comments, or any other way of support. Let me know what you think about this pairing and please tell me if there are any football errors, because I have another request about footballer!reader waiting for me. Have a great day! :)
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lovingseventeen · 2 years ago
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svt doing your makeup
a/n: i luv fluff and i luv seokmin UGH. and i’m releasing this as my 1k event is still going on bc i figured y’all deserve some new ideas too. but please go check out that series too! i’ll put the link to it right here <3
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seungcheol:
✧ claims that sitting on his lap while he does it is necessary
✧ “sit here” he says, patting his lap, “i need you up close”
✧ tries to be as gentle as he can
✧ whines when eyeliner is hard to do then he whines even more when you laugh at him
jeonghan:
✧ lowkey pranks you by telling you he’ll attempt one look but he does something very different
✧ nothing crazy, like he wouldn’t purposefully make you look bad by any means
✧ but maybe he wants to gently push you out of your comfort zone so he picks a new eyeshadow color, but still subtly does it so it isn’t too vivid
✧ “you said you were gonna do my usual!” you gasped when you finally checked yourself in the mirror
✧ he actually did pretty well, you were just caught off guard
✧ “i always wondered how you’d look like this” he tells you, “and would you look at that, i knew you’d look so good”
joshua:
✧ he likes to watch when you get ready most of the time so he knew your routine for the most part
✧ his hands are confident as he works, his lips gently parted as he focuses
✧ tilts your face by gently holding your chin
✧ gets up very close to your face to put your makeup on but also to definitely fluster you (he’s evil for this)
jun:
✧ thinks watching one youtube tutorial is enough but it is in fact, not
✧ forgets how to do something as soon as he puts a dab of concealer on your face
✧ “wait, wait a minute-”
✧ he’s rewinding the video he referenced and maybe he swaps a method here and there - like jun the dot of makeup is starting to set
✧ you don’t look too bad at the end either, but he’s very relieved to be done (after an hour) as he’s spritzing your setting spray
soonyoung:
✧ get so excited, “can i pick your outfit too!”
✧ really really wants to do it well so he asks you about everything, every step of the way
✧ “is this the one they use when they get rid of my eye bags?” he asks
✧ “i have to tap the excess off right?”
✧ “what’s the difference between these two?”
✧ maybe you have to retouch a little at the end, but you’re proud of him (may have been light handed because he didn’t want to overdo it)
✧ loves it when you put on the outfit he picked and give him 360 of your look
✧ you give him a kiss on the cheek after and you leave a kiss print with your lipstick (he’s the kind of bf to not wipe it off too and he sends a selfie to the svt group chat to brag)
wonwoo:
✧ calm about the whole ordeal
✧ googles general makeup instructions and references this one article as he does your makeup
✧ he keeps looking back between the article and your face
✧ doesn’t go for anything over the top, but more or less just perfects your skin
✧ “very pretty” he comments as he assesses his work
jihoon:
✧ also does research and he’s the only member who learns how to undo a mistake
✧ he mutters to himself “wait, this is not it, wait, don’t look in the mirror right now,” as he’s scrambling for your concealer
✧ very careful hands
✧ kind of under pressure because he doesn’t want to be at fault for making you look bad
minghao:
✧ he’s so fun, he wants to do a matching look with you
✧ wants to go for something edgy, maybe some soft smokey eyeshadow
✧ winds up being a session where he does your makeup (with the most delicate hands) and you do his
✧ you also end up painting each other’s nails to add to the look
✧ easy to say both of you look very hot together
mingyu:
✧ APPALLED when you flinch away from him when he’s holding your eyeliner
✧ he’s already talking in pout when he goes “have i ever hurt you before? baby trust me”
✧ he’s so pouty from that point on and he’s even more motivated to make you pretty (well, more pretty than you already are)
✧ “here, look” he tells you, holding out a mirror so you can examine his work
✧ you gasp, “‘gyu you did so good!” he’s blushing but still a little sulky
✧ “see? i’d never hurt you! you had no reason to flinch!”
✧ “i know, i know” you assure him, taking your usual seat in his lap to wrap your arms around his neck to snuggle him. “thank you baby, i love it” (you know he’s already forgiven you when he wraps his strong arms around your waist to pull you closer)
seokmin:
✧ baby is so so gentle with you
✧ compliments you after ever step
✧ “your skin’s already so perfect i don’t have to do a lot..” he mumbles under his breath
✧ “wow this is so sparkly, your eyes are even prettier” he grins
✧ “pucker your lips for me?” he’ll ask (he takes off half of what he put on though because he cant fight the urge to peck your lips when they’re like this)
✧ squishes your cheeks when he’s done and he says “you’re so prettyyy” in that painfully adorable lovesick way he does
seungkwan:
✧ here’s our resident perfectionist — he does research thoroughly
✧ even finds some good alternatives for some of your current stuff
✧ winds up teaching you a better method for the looks you tend to go for
✧ “that’s not how i do it but-” you begin, only to be interrupted with “i thought you said i could do what i wanted! just wait, look, i’ll show you-”
✧ his lips are pursed and frankly, he’s starting to sweat because he’s passionate about getting you to look even better than you already do
✧ 10/10 look in the end, you could easily wear it out
vernon:
✧ he was surprised at your request to do your makeup but he agrees. though he does warn you it might not look great
✧ “you trust me with this?” he double checks as soon as you lay out your supplies on the desk
✧ “of course i do” this makes him grin
✧ he doesn’t look up anything but he lets you talk him through your steps and his touch is so light and a little awkward as he swipes across your eyelid
✧ he can’t hold his reactions when he messes up though, and he’s kind of like 😬 in that very specific vernon way. “i think you’re gonna wanna do this part babe” and he watches so intently as you do it
✧ amidst this though, he does learn about your process and even if he can’t do your look for you entirely, he might offer to do parts of your routine for you in the future. if you’re tired as you’re getting ready in the morning maybe he can lay your foundation for you and your concealer - the parts of your process that aren’t too intricate.
✧ future vernon maybe even offers to take off your makeup for you at the end of a day instead
chan:
✧ he believes the phrase “shoot for the moon. even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars”
✧ in hindsight, it could be poetic but he really just bites off more than he could chew
✧ rewatches the same ten seconds of a tutorial over and over again and he still doesn’t quite understand what cutting a crease means
✧ please kiss his forehead and walk him through it
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kiidwritings · 13 days ago
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🐾 weird quirks cat hybrid! 141 + könig do
word count; 4744. tags/warnings; cat!hybrid 141. maybe ooc. KONIG IS NOT PART OF 141 but he is here for funsies lol. konig is fat both in human form and cat i dont make the rules. failed attempts at writing a scottish accent sorry 😿. no beta read. possible grammatical errors. lmk if anything else!
a/n: (rewriting this cuz tumblr is a bitch, dont tell me "draft saved!" when it clearly fucking didn't) anyways I LOVE HYBRID AUS I WISH I WAS PART ANIMAL RAAAHHH!! i forgot when i started this but it was definitely way after i discovered hallohello's cat cafe au on ao3. i see a lot of silly cat tiktoks on my fyp, so each character (except price, sorry peepaw ;-;) has a video linked) i did extensive research (not rlly lol) into what type of cat they'd all be cuz im insane and love cats meow :3 edit 12/24/24: holy fuck uhh hi. school started when i was like 70% finished the art for this and so im just now posting it here. im no longer fixated on cod so this'll probably be my last cod writing ough. plz enjoy anyways
pawprint divider by @/saradika-graphics. banner art by me! inspired by @/i-am-hungry-24-7 's cod cat cafe au
pairing(s): poly! cat hybrid! 141 + konig x gn!reader, platonic cat!hybrid price + reader
READ ON AO3!!
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Price
If they were wolves, Price’d be the alpha no doubt
He’s the dominate male of 141 (duh, he’s the captain), not only keeping the boys in line, but also you
Just like an actual father, he gives you disappointed looks in both human and cat form when you do something even slightly against his wishes
Woke up late for work? Disappointed sigh
Fell for Soap’s pleads for more treats? A disappointed glance
He’s favorite way of spending time with you outside of going out to eat or maybe a shopping trip together was by sitting with you whenever you do work. Whether it's on your lap (which actually helps with your posture), behind your laptop, or even the majority of the time, watching the screen as you type away at some document.
Its both a blessing and a curse because he keeps you focused…even when you just wanna scroll on your phone for five minutes, he’s putting a paw on ur hand and giving you that disappointed cat dad look
You had a backload of documents and work related to the cafe that you’d been putting off but the guilt was eating away at you like a child quickly makes do with a candy bar, so instead of snuggling with Soap and Gaz on the couch to binge watch a show that took you forever to finally start up, you were sat at your desk, fingers flying across your keyboard as you inputted this month’s numbers into an excel sheet. Price, layed with his chin against his chest next to you, his ginormous and fluffy body splayed out upon the darkened wood and some extra papers you’d have to shimmy out from under him later. (Being that big made it hard to fit into places thinner cats usually could.)
You had been working for sometime now, making sure to stretch and take water breaks in between…but, all the numbers and math on your laptop screen were blurring in your head and your eyes were straining! You needed more than 5 minutes away from your screen.
With a groan, you crack your joints and lean back against the cushions of your chair. Price’s ear swiveled in your direction and he cracked an eye open. His bushy tail flicked and he left out a yawn, showing off his great fangs before shuffling around more comfortably, slowly morphing into a loaf.
You smiled and gave him a scratch behind the ear, which was met with a low rumble of purring and a tilt of his head. With your other hand, you grabbed your phone (which had been on do not disturb) and read through any notifications you got within the last three hours.
You took your hand away from Price and began to reply back to a text. He fully opened his eyes and glanced over at you. With your phone in hand, you were now hunched a bit using your elbows to keep you propped up on the desk.
Price let out a small sigh and stretched himself, back arching upwards.
Your text message conversation was obstructed by a large brown paw placing itself on your screen. You looked up and Price was staring at you with his brown eyes, pupils expanding and his ears swerving to the sides. He lets out a crunchy meow, a warning.
“What? I’ve been working for like three hours straight, don’t I deserve an actual break?” You huffed. His paw stayed and he squinted his eyes at you, before giving a slow blink. You slowly blinked back.
You knew he was just being the father figure that he was, watching out for the ones he loves, but you wanted to doomscroll dammit!...just as a little treat.
Price finally removed his paw before jumping down from the desk (his tail brushing against your nose and causing you to sputter). He looked back at you as you stared from your desk chair. You knew what that meant- he wanted you to follow him. With a sigh and a small smile, you got up from your chair, feeling how heavy your limbs got from sitting still for all that time. 
With a pleased mreow, he led you into the living room before stretching himself up to the twine pole on the cat tree. Ah, he wanted you to stretch too!
Remembering some warmups from your Sunday yoga class, you felt your joints pop and muscles strain as you stretched your achy body.
Once satisfied, he jumps atop the couch and slow-blinks at you again. You join him, lying down and staring up at him. He continues to purr as he lets his tail slump down and brush against your nose again, causing you to erupt with giggles.
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Soap
Out of all five cats, Soap had to be the most chaotic one.
Whether it was failing to jump from one perch to another and pouting about it, getting bopped in the head by Ghost, or his meows that lasted so long you’d wonder how strong his little kitty lungs were, he was definitely the one who got the most attention for his silly antics at the cafe
He was like this even in his human form, he’s following you around the apartment, chatting away or always keeping a hand on your figure (it was no doubt his love language was physical affection, you had so many pictures of him all snuggled up with the others)
Whenever you found something that triggered a silly response, you would milk it till it became a new normal 
But one thing that’ll never get old is his reaction to butt scratches... 
When the weather was bad, the cafe was usually pretty quiet. Few customers came in and the cats were rather calm. Price took his usual spot upon the highest wall perch, Gaz was grooming himself and purring at people’s feet, Ghost was helping in the back, König would occasionally stick his head out from his little hiding box, and Soap was unusually sleepy. He’d let himself get fonded over, meow a bit, try and rile up the other, but he mostly lounged around. You could see in his little cat face that something was up. 
He slacked a bit when it came to helping clean up after closing and upon returning to the apartment, flopped down on your bed. With his face fully engulfed in the pillow, he seemed dead to the world. Kyle made a teasing remark which was only met with an exaggerated groan and a sad flick of his tail.
Everyone else had gone to do their own things; Price went home, Kyle and Ghost were on the couch watching TV with König (still in his cat form) lounging on the latter’s lap, purring up a storm.
“You haven’t been yourself today, Johnny. What’s wrong?” You ask, slipping into some lightweight sweatpants and sitting next to his figure on the bed. His cat ears flick up and towards you and he let out another groan and turned his head towards you. Johnny’s got that look on his face, it's different from his pleading pouts- which never falls you make you fold for him. 
No, this look is exhaustion, like he’s been drained of all his usual boyish enthusiasm. Like he can’t find a reason to get out of bed. There’s no usual purr resounding from his chest or a mischievous glint in his eyes, in fact, they looked clouded with depression like the sky outside, focused on nothing in particular.
Your heart ached from him. Seasonal depression was a bitch. When the seasons shifted and the clouds lingered in the sky more than you would like, it made the world seem less enjoyable. Constant rain made you want to sit in bed all day and binge eat and when the snow fell from the sky like flour through a sifter, you couldn’t even bring yourself to open the blinds, knowing the sight of the powdery white clinging to buildings would send your mind spiraling.
Not only that, but the dreary weather caused his knee to act up, like the joints were stuck together no matter what stretches he did.
You climbed into bed behind Johnny and wrapped your limbs around him, giving him a squeeze. His tail snaked around your leg and you felt his body relax. The added warmth was what you and Johnny needed to fend off the mysterious draft flowing through the flat.
His ear twitches as your breath fanned over it, “Why don’t you shift and we can snuggle, hmm suds?” You whisper to him and give him a soft smile.
He mumbles something at the nickname but compiles, slipping off his clothes and shifting into a brown Scottish fold, his blue eyes still shining. Johnny plops himself on your chest and makes some soft biscuits, his purr rattling your chest. He looks so much more relaxed now- he was your living weighted doll.
Johnny begins to settle down enough to doze off while you scroll on your phone. You scratch behind his ear a little and he tilts his head at maximum relaxation. Your hand slowly moved down his body- you went from his chin, to his back, poking his tummy a bit, then to the base of his tail. It twitches, swishing a bit against your hand but when you start scratching, Johnny’s butt lifts and his eyes crack open.
You giggled at his enjoyment of simple butt scratches, but this was the beginning. You shape your hand into a claw and scratch a bit more intensely. His purring increases and he lifts his head in pleasure, arching his back. Johnny let out a long meow followed by what can only be described as ‘wah wah wah wah wah’.
Nevermind the fact that his claws were digging into your chest, you both were enjoying the moment. His tail was practically wagging and he looked blissed out from butt scratches. Unable to control yourself, you burst into laughter and stopped scratching. His body went back to its relaxed state and he stared at you, his little blue eyes wide.
Johnny turned away with the best equivalent to a pout a cat could give. “Feel good, suds?” You asked through a laugh and all he responded back with was a ‘mrow’ of embarrassment.
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Kyle
Kyle was the certified pretty boy, both in the group and according to the cafe’s customers
Every video or picture with him on the cafe’s socials gets a shit ton of likes
(you most popular post is gaz licking soap’s head while soap licks ghost’s head, who seem rather calm with everything and König watching from the side, wanting to join in)
He’d sit and flaunt himself in little cat outfits, or meow sweetly at the customers who couldn’t help and coddle him, like mind control, and even using that boyish charm on you and the others (he’s been found snuggled up to Ghost on more than one occasion, the pair’s tail tangled together and occasionally chirping at each other)
Kyle enjoyed watching you cook both as a human or cat. he was also one of the only ones who could be trusted up there; Soap and König stole food, Ghost couldn’t care less and when he did, he would knock things over (and although Price doesn’t live with you all, he got a bit sneezy around all the spices and seasonings)
Tonight’s dinner was chicken parmesan and spaghetti, so after Kyle helped with a bit of prep (being the gentleman he is), he shifted and hopped onto his little spot on the counter
After breading the chicken breasts, you popped the first patch into the air fryer. You set a big pot upon the stove, turning the flame to medium and drizzling some oil into it. Kyle sat loafed, observing you move around the kitchen, gathering ingredients, keeping an eye on the chicken, as well as having to shoo some mischievous kitties out the kitchen.
Once the water begins to bubble, causing Kyle’s ears to swivel in its direction, you slide the noodles into the water. You stir them around before opening up the air fryer. Steam poured out along with a wave of heat and the delicious smell of chicken.
“Oh man, I can’t remember the last time I had chicken parm.” If you were in a cartoon, you’d be comically salivating at the sight of the crispening chicken. Kyle seemed just as interested because he stretched his neck out a bit and you could see his little pink nose wiggling.
You started flipping each piece over, allowing for equal crisp on both sides, when you held up a smaller piece. “Want a sniff, pretty boy? I can trust you not to snatch this away from me.” You cooed at him, lowering the chicken to his nose. He instantly began to sniff, his tail swishing a bit. His pupils expanded and his mouth became ajar, and he started huffing like his nose was clogged or something.
You snorted as he turned away, mouth still agape and his eyes wide. Was this some weird cat quirk? None of the others did this and Kyle has had chicken before, but damn if this wasn’t cute!
He could get away with almost anything if he flashed his big brown eyes at you. (When he scratched your hand up after König tipped over the catnip jar, he just rubbed his little kitty face against your bandages and gave you a small meow. Or when he’d eaten the last brownies you were looking forward to after a long and hard day, he kissed along your neck and face before whispering sweetened apologies in your ear.)
“Smell yummy, hmm, Kyle? Never seen you do this before.” You giggled as he licked his lips and closed his mouth. He meowed back before stretching his front limbs, going into Sphinx-pose.
After a couple moments, you move onto the pasta, taking a noodle out and blowing before nibbling on it. ‘Needs more time…’ you thought as you looked over at Kyle, who’s eyes were closed and his tail flicked momentarily. You smirk as you grab another noodle and shimmy over to him. His ears swivel towards you and he cracks one eye open. 
“Give this a smell?” You asked as you held the noodle in front of him. Like clockwork, his mouth parted as he huffed and sniffled at the semi limb pasta.
You laughed as he even squinted his eyes, as if in deep concentration over the smell of this bland noodle.
And just like a cat, he reacted faster than you, jumping back at Johnny jumped on the counter and snatched the noodle out from between you two fingers, skidding out the kitchen and under the cat tree.
“NO! Dammit Johnny! You’re so greedy!” You fumed as you went to scold him. Gaz’s eyes closed in satisfaction and he went back to lounging.
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Ghost
You’re still finding out things about simon
Not that there isn’t some level of trust between you two, but he’s just an enigma to everyone
It took him almost 6 months for him to finally agree to sit in at the cafe as a cat and not just help in the back
Unlike most black cats online, he doesn’t really have any of those quirks
Sure he likes to knock things over, bat at the other’s (mainly soap and König) when he was annoyed, and hit your legs whenever you walk by, but those were normal cat things
He spent more time in his human form (unless he needed his alone time, then he snuggled himself into his cat cubby), so when he was shifted, you enjoyed spending as much time observing him like he was his more bigger counterpart- the black panther
Simon was overall a pretty normal cat
You’d learnt all his favorite scratching spots, his favorite football (im so american RAAAAGHHH) team, his designated spot on the bed, and exactly how he enjoyed his tea
He was never really as vocal as a human or cat. If he wanted something, he’d either stare you down or bat at you. If someone was annoying him, he had a hardy hiss that got anyone backing off (he’s only ever growled at price, having too much respect for the man)
When out, Simon was protective; walking on the outer part of the sidewalk, opening doors for you, making sure you were always walking in front of him, even when snuggling he’d hiss at the others so you two can be alone 
Who said Simon Riley wasn’t a softie under all that eye-black and classic skull balaclava?
Spring was finally here, long gone the days of constant clouds hanging over the city and random cold fronts. The city planters had bedded tulips around the neighborhood flower beds, people were out and about during the weeks, outside tables at diners and cafes finally being occupied, and the sun warming up your apartment and your heart.
The cafe was busy today, groups enjoying pastries and drinks while the cats ran around.
Gaz and Soap were playing around, slipping under tables and playing with the customers. König even let a few people pet him (which caused him to chirp and get even more pets). Price was helping in the back (people always complimented the drinks when he made them, so you let him handle those to help boost his ego), and Ghost sat on a high perch attached to the window, too high for anyone ton reach him, but in a good spot to catch some of the breeze that came through the screen door.
You came over to check on him and all he did was swish his tail and slow blink at you. You could hear people coo at his bright pink beans as he stretches before rolling back over. It was nice to see Simon out and about during busy hours, he’d usually hide away from everyone, including Soap and König who loved his personal space. (Out of the two, Soap has gotten the most bats to the head while König has been nipped twice.)
You’re chatting with some customers, Gaz sits proudly in the lap of one of them when there’s a clattering outside and you see someone passing by has knocked over the black board outside. You roll your eyes a bit, excusing yourself and exiting the cafe to pick it up back.
“Some people…jeez.” You grumble as you straighten it back up. As you're crouched down, a shadow casts above you and when you look up, there’s a brunet giving you an apologetic smile. His hair is sleek and he’s wearing a cool gray office suit. 
“Ah, sorry about that, sweets.” The unnecessary pet name has your nose wrinkling, but you keep your displeasure masked. 
“It’s ok, nothing’s broken.” You say as you brush off your knees and straighten up. He’s average height and build, nothing to gawk over but not bad looking. He’s got a glint in his eye and before you can turn away, he’s opening his mouth. 
“I pass here everyday and I’ve seen you hustling around, like a cute little maid. You own this place, eh?” The more he talks, the more you get the urge to spit at his feet- those obnoxiously shiny loafers. You just grit your teeth and force a polite smile.
“Mhmm, yup. I’ve got some order to make so I’ll be-.” 
“I never liked cats, too hairy and mean, but I’d come here for you.~ You should be the main face of this cafe instead of those...pets, sales would be booming if you just flashed a pretty little smile.” He flashes his pearly whites and you suddenly feel exposed under his sultry gaze. 
“I, uhh, appreciate it but I have to go-.” He takes a step towards you, his hand ready to grasp onto your arm when there’s a clunk against the window behind you. 
Ghost, with big eyes and his body fluffed up like a sea urchin stood on his hind legs, body pressing against the glass like if he tried hard enough, he could phase through and slice the bastard's face into flesh ribbons. His claws scratch at the glass and he lets out a hiss that sounds loud even through the window. Customers and the other cats look over at the scene and the office man wrinkles his nose. Ghost keeps hissing and presses himself more into the glass, definitely leaving marks where his nose and paws were pressing.
In human form, you were blessed if you never at the receiving end of Ghost's intimidation, but as a cat, seeing him before a black puff ball of rage was certainly cute.
“You keep feral cats in your cafe?!” The man asks, disgusted by Ghost's actions of pure rage. You’ve never seen Ghost get so aggressive, but in this moment, you’re thankful.
“Yep, so maybe it’s best you don’t stop by!” You huff at him and turn curtly back into the cafe, ignoring his grumbles and curses at Ghost as he continues to stare down the sleazeball. 
Even after the man has gone down the street, Ghost is still seething. He stills alert in his window perch and watches the people go by. Some stop to coo at him through the glass despite his deadly glare so he goes to his hiding spot to brood. 
Once the last group leaves and everyone shifts back to help clean up, Ghost peeks his little head out. You squat down and give him a smile. He just glares.
“Thank you, Si. I appreciate the backup.” You boop his nose and he growls before batting at your hand. You just laugh and coo at him more. 
“Seems like you have a little katze bodyguard.” König teases as he wipes down some tables. Ghost hisses and slinks out of hiding, making his way to the back area to get dressed and wash dishes.
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König
being raised in a poor household with just his mutter and oma, he struggled but was also spoiled, wanting to be given the best life they could provide for him
His mom would sometimes not eat just to provide her growing boy a full meal
And man did he grow…
At age 13, Anton was 5’11 and 145 lbs. And according to his doctor, he wasn’t done growing yet!
He was outcasted by his peers, bullied and teased for how his second hand clothes never truly fit over his stomach or how his shoes were slowly falling apart
Over his years of being in the military, a balanced diet, and an intense workout routine, some of that fat turned to muscle but his body was still plump
His stomach hadn’t formed any abs, his thighs spread when he sat, and his arms if not flexed jiggled
He’d gotten better with his body issues, and with the help of loving partners and therapy he didn’t scowl looking in the mirror
He’d still grow flustered when you’d playfully pat his stomach or when soap’d tease about getting him into something more revealing to show off his fat ass, his creamy white skin blooming a bright red which ensued even more teasing
Add onto being a maine coon hybrid, his cat form was also a bit chubby under all that fur
When he ran, his pouch swung side to side and he had trouble fitting into smaller perches kitties like soap and gaz lounged on with ease
Each of the cats had a specific level of the cat tree dedicated to them. König’s favorite spot was a little perch in the center of the cat tree that had a small hole in the middle. It was meant for cats to stick their heads through and play with each other, but with his large physique, he took over that whole platform
Sundays were usually when you tried to get everything done before the work week started back up again. Groceries were dwindling and Price wasn’t gonna let you eat take out anymore (you’d accidently let slip on the phone that you got the same delivery drive twice in a row and he pressured the rest out of you).
Kyle had just ventured to the bedroom to receive some clothes, wanting to spend some time with his Captain and his partner, Simon and Johnny opted to stay home, and König…you actually hadn’t heard from him in a while.
Pulling a shirt over your head, you headed into the living room. The TV was playing a rerun while Johnny splayed his legs over Simon’s, who didn’t seem bothered. Entering the living room, you pass by the couch and to the cat tree, where a big mass of dusty orange fur sat, front legs dangling off the edge.
You poke his back, and the skin jumps as he lets out a ‘merr!’ and lifts his head. König yawns, sticking his pink tongue out and you boop the tip. He snaps his mouth shut and gives another chirp. His long ear flicks and he licks his lips as you speak.
“You thinking about joining us, we’re heading to the store. We might need your muscles carrying the bags, big boy.” You stroke his back and you feel him arch up a bit.
König seems to be thinking in his little kitty mind before laying his head back down with a small and dainty, “Maow!” 
You giggle, he’s always had a high pitched voice. He was another silent kitty next to Ghost, only using his meow at home or occasional chirps in the public eye of cafe customers. (This didn’t stop them from cooing at his squeaky voice and he’d grow embarrassed.)
“D’aww, ok. You can stay home with the lovebirds, König.” You scratch his back some more, before you see a mound hanging down from the platform’s underside.
“Oh? What’s this?” You tease as you squat down. You knew what it was, you were just feeling a bit cheeky today. König chirped and his tail swished and he watched you gaze at his belly.
It was round and a nice cream color compared to the rest of his fur. It was also weirdly the softest part of him. You grinned as you poked it, running your hands along it like feeling a baby bump. König chirped again, it sounded like a whine, but that didn’t stop you.
“So chubby, no wonder even Ghost has trouble picking you up. At least we know you’re eating well! I like my partners' big boned and my cats chonky.” You jiggled and played with his stomach more before König let out a meow of annoyance, but it was too cute for you to take offense to!
You straightened back up to give him some deserved chin scratches for putting up with your antics. But with a huff, König stood up and turns away, making sure to smack your face with his tail before jumping down and off to the bedroom, pouch swaying as he trotted off. (You heard Kyle give a kiss to the gentle giant and offer him the same deal, to which he agreed to! So cheeky!)
“Ya’ gotta quit bullyin’ the lad! No wonder he ‘as a new favorite!” Johnny says as his eyes were now on you, but his gaze focused elsewhere but your eyes. You stammered to defend yourself. König truly didn’t mind, you’d talk about it before but you always kept it to light teasing and never any insults. He’d tease you back, despite how reserved he was, his hooked nose would scrunch when he made a remark that had you gawking and pouting at him. 
“I-I wasn’t bullying König! Also you saw his stomach, it’s like this when he walks!” You mimic the motion by making a side to side motion with your hands, feeling flushed now having been called out.
Johnny just smirked as Simon spoke up, “Unless you plan on shopping in your knickers, I’d suggest you finish dressing.”
As if on queue, a breeze ruffled the satin curtains and tickled your bare legs, skin erupting with goosebumps. You blush harder and stomp past the couch, not without receiving a swat on the butt from Johnny, who can only laugh as you swear back at him.
(With each trip that issued carrying groceries, you were left struggling, hands burning from the strain, while König chivalrously took bags from Kyle's hands, them both throwing you smug smirks.)
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noblecorgi · 10 days ago
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2024: A Re-Entry to Fandom
I guess this is a thing? (Oh shit this brackets bit was written at the end and I appear to have emotionally vomited an essay. Sorry ‘bout that.)
In late 2023 I experienced a personal tragedy and retreated to where I had always found comfort: books.
I read a series that had been recommended to me before, but I hadn’t had time to read it - The Simon Snow Trilogy by @rainbowrowell and it awoke a dormant-but-never-forgotten love of fanfiction in me.
In my teens and early 20s I wrote a lot of fan fiction on the ol’ FF net, all of it of atrocious quality I’m certain, which is why I haven’t tried to rediscover that account.
Instead I found AO3, and restarted regularly writing for fun instead of for work or study/research.
I didn’t do any summation for 2023 because I think my first fic was posted on like 10 December 2023, but AO3 tells me I wrote 4 works, all SnowBaz, at a total of 55,154 words.
In 2024, I’ve published 5 works, at a total of 94,323 words.
What truly blows me away (and honestly makes me a bit teary) is the 1013 kudos, 100 subscribers (inc 15 subscribers to just me rather than a fic!), and 222 comment threads on my works. 🥹
So: my 2024 works.
Use your words, SnowBaz, Rated: E, 3,930 words
A smutty lil gift fic wherein Baz teaches Simon how to sext.
Splendid Morons, SnowBaz, Rated: E, 12,886 words
Published for Erotic Grope Fest, aka Baz’s birthday. A collaboration with @alexalexinii and a story written to enable their amazing art of Baz in lingerie.
Precious to me for not only getting to work with Alex, but also for being the beginning of my relationship with Becky @rbkzz, my incomparable beta who has become one of the dearest people in my life.
On The Rocks, SnowBaz, Rated: E, 74,592 words (WIP)
My opus, as it were. It originated from a fluffy cute prompt of “what if Baz and Lady Ruth were work besties?!” And I came along like “YEAH! But with trauma, exploration of love in mental illness, and alcoholism!”
I began posting it in March and it’s about 2/3 done now. But for Becky it would be both an absolute pile of horse poop, and an abandoned WIP. Instead it has a clear direction and she found motifs that I’d repeatedly used by accident in my drafts and built imagery, greater meaning, and also debated me ad nauseam on my preference for spelt over spelled.
Immune Response, @lumosinlove’s Cubs, Rated: G, 1,421 words
I was a big consumer of WolfStar in my teens and was recommended Lumosinlove’s Sweater Weather and, like many before me, fell in love with the story, the original characters, and ice hockey itself (much to the surprised glee of my Canadian spouse, who for a decade has tried in vain to get me on board. Little did he know the key was obviously gays.)
This is a lil’ slice of life sick fic examining how each of the Cubs responds to getting sick.
I have a lot more unpublished drabbles about these characters and some fics that are being cocreated so stay tuned for 2025?
Preliminary, my dear Basil, SnowBaz, Rated: T, 1,494 words
A gift fic for @martsonmars as part of the Carry On Discord’s Secret Snowflake Exchange.
Among their suggestions was “Sherlock AU, but not BBC Sherlock, 19th century Sherlock” and it hooked me with the idea that Baz would absolutely fancy himself as Sherlock. I actually sketched out a plot to SnowBazify 4 of the Holmes stories, so maybe 2025 will see them unearthed.
There is one other published fic I worked on this year, but as a beta rather than a writer for @swoopswrites @rsbigbang piece Class A which was super fun to do (and got me to watch a great series - The Gentlemen on Netflix) and Swoops has a fantastic mind so I’d encourage you to to check it out.
Finally, I have always been a writer rather than an artist, but I do enjoy drawing, and the need to upgrade my iPad for work arose and so I also tried my hand at drawing again for the first time since I was 17 or so.
In order from the first one to the most recent one, the lil scribbles I did this year:
Penelope Bunce, Wolfstar on a train, Baz with coffee, cuddly Cubs, FinnLo being adorable, iconic Moony with a cane, emo Sirius Black.
And THAT was 2024 (and 2023).
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@artsyunderstudy @asocialpessimist @angelsfalling16 @whatevertheweather @edenalix @emjaydellyone @erzbethluna @emeryhall @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @roomwithanopenfire @thehoneyedhufflepuff @theearlgreymage @thewholelemon @lonleyhumanbeing @letraspal @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @ichooseyousnowbaz @ic3-que3n @ileadacharmedlife @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettygoododds @philaet0s @pacey-bunce-loves-joey @sorenphelps @skee3000 @stitchy-queerista @fiend-for-culture @facewithoutheart @fruitcoops @girlwithcurls96 @hushed-chorus @hihimissamericanbi @cutestkilla @cosmicalart @confused-bi-queer @noopienoopiernoopiest @messofthejess @monbons
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