#i’ve been so annoying about this all week to my buddies but i have made the decision to archive this blog !
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kuroosdarling · 1 year ago
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hello friendz !! i am packing my bags and moving to @tetzoro !!! please come join me if ya want ^_^
back to navi.
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piarelei · 3 months ago
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Touch starved
AU where the Navy cares about mental health but in the most annoying way possible.
The Program had Jake noted down as recalcitrant. He couldn’t deny the truth of it. 
In his early career, he would have never believed that the Navy could one day so strongly advocate for mental health. The Program’s agent was staring placidly at him from the other side of his kitchen table, his file between her manicured hands. She was someone who was used to scrutiny and did it in turn without an ounce of shame. 
“I’m afraid we will have to see improvement or the Program will have to ground you. Temporarily, of course.” 
Jake looked away. He had to swallow his first impulse. He was not suited to begging. “I’ve never been a great sleeper, you know. That has nothing to do with the job.” 
She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “You understand that we cannot allow access to such expensive and destructive weapons to someone who is already under duress.” 
Jake clenched his teeth. There was no point in arguing, but it didn’t stop him from trying. “Part of the job is being under duress. I’ve always known how to deal.” 
“We are doing things differently now.” She looked down at the file in her hands. “Well, I see that at least you have been regular with the monitor, despite a rocky start. This is good.”
Jake had to do his best not to sneer. 
“Now, you have refused therapy, counsel, journaling, meditation and yoga classes, art and animal therapy, and a number of other things. If I listed them all we would be here for hours. No point in losing time.” 
Jake crossed his arms and lifted his chin, defiant. 
“I suggest that our next step is assigning you to buddy,” she continued on, placidly. She lifted a hand when he opened his mouth to talk. “Actually, before you answer, I have to let you know that if you refuse, I won’t be able to keep you in the air any longer. We need to see that you are willing to put in the work.” 
He swallowed. “What if I get therapy now?” 
She smiled again, lipstick-stained mouth thinning into some disingenuous. “That would be a step in the right direction. But I’m afraid we need more from you this time. We want someone to monitor you closely in your journey.” 
Sweat gathered in his palms. Him, who so proudly claimed to be able to withstand anything, anxious at the idea of a stranger embedded in his intimacy. 
“We have already found a volunteer to help you. He’s a familiar face, it shouldn’t be too hard for you both to be roommates. There’s a car waiting for you outside, you can pack and it’ll drive you to your new home for the next few weeks.” 
Jake had the strongest urge to simply book it out of here, forget about his entire life rooted in the Navy and start anew. Maybe in Europe. 
She stood up, gathering her things, straightening her uniform. “I do hope that we do not have to see each other again, Lieutenant. Best of luck.” 
He nodded but did not offer any parting words. 
#
Bradley Bradshaw was waiting for him on the stoop of their new abode. Jake almost swore up a storm at his sight, but waited until the car had disappeared from view to do so. 
“Nice to see you too, Hangman,” Bradshaw offered with a new slump to his shoulders, leaning back against the railing. 
“What, surprised?” Jake asked, already feeling too tight in his own skin. “Weren’t you briefed?” 
“Well, nobody gave me your name, you know that damn well. I honestly didn’t think of you when they gave me your case.” 
“Oh yeah? Too neurotic to make you think of me?”
Rooster shrugged. “Probably should have, honestly. Recalcitrant. Individualist. Anxious about low stress situations. Insomniac.” Bradshaw reached out a hand to touch Jake’s shoulder, light as a feather. “Touch starved.” 
Jake swatted his hand away. “Fuck off. Nothing that getting laid cannot resolve.” 
Rooster made a face. “I don’t think that’s how it works.” 
“Sure does. Now, are you getting ready to go out or do I have the pleasure of my own company?”
“I don’t really have a choice now, do I?” 
“You’re the one who volunteered.” 
#
The club Jake elected as his hunting ground for the night was packed to the brim. Bradshaw gave him a wild-eyed look as they passed the door and tried to reach for him before Jake slinked away. He did not bother to see if Rooster could follow. 
The bodies pressed against him, warm and sweaty, and it was almost good. Jake pulled himself into the frenzy of writhing people, barely listening to the music, only reacting to the foreign touches of strangers all around him. He let hands guide his hips and lips find his neck, before they lost interest and turned around. Manicured nails racked through his hair. A large arm pulled him tight and let him go almost just as fast. 
Jake was soaking it all up. He did not linger on the brevity of touches because it had always been inevitable. Jake was not to be kept. He was mostly fine with that. 
But then, there were hands at his shoulders and the off-beat sway of a large body, a palm cupping his head to let it rest against a collarbone and Bradshaw was burning to the touch, as comforting as a campfire in a silent forest. 
They stayed together for a long moment, coming to a standstill by the second song and completely immobile by the third. Jake’s hands were shaking. His heart was cradled in his chest, steady. The knot in his stomach was gone, but was fighting to come back, lingering at the edges of his consciousness. 
“Come on,” said Bradshaw, “let’s go home.” 
#
Bradshaw put him into bed and Jake was too ashamed to even speak. Now that Bradshaw was a careful two feet away, he could not believe that he had been tamed by a hug. 
He stared hotly at the ceiling, until Rooster’s monstrous hand gently covered his eyes, lashes fluttering against his palm. 
“Sleep,” he instructed. 
Jake tried to disobey, but Rooster stayed seated by his side until he gave in. He slept.
I don't know if I have energy for more of this AU (I always say that lmao). Give it some love with a reblog !
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bloodsadx · 7 months ago
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even the years that i retroactively have viewed as the most useless of my life have paid off. ive met and befriended many of my heroes from when i was down bad and doing nothing. however in spite of this any time im down im still like. well. i guess im going to jump into the fargo life size human mulcher and deboner (in order to become less full of blood). anyway every time im in an uber with my buddy anne she says the word transexual minimum like 6 times no matter what the vibe of the driver is and last night the uber driver told us to try the following pick up lines (which he called “jaw droppers”): when a girl asks your favorite food, say that “[you] don’t care about stuff like that, [you] want to get to know the flavor of [her] taste buds.” he insisted she’s never heard some shit like this before, so she’ll either like it and you’ll start making out, or if she’s “a more polite woman” she will be like ok ok, and at that point you say “i’m not trying to nourish your body, i’m trying to enrich your soul.” he said that you say that, this being the “jaw dropper,” and then you “can shove your tongue down her throat.” well me and my buddy anne were losing our minds in this uber. and then she started saying the word transsexual to refer to her previous partners and the guy became strictly quiet. well anyway. the moral of the post is, if you walk around a lot, you notice more stuff. i’ve been walking about 10-15 miles a day for the past few weeks and something i’ve been noticing a lot is one specific sticker around portland which ive seen i think sincerely about 300 different places in the past week. and i’ve been walking some really not well trodden, very annoying routes, and this guy has been putting stickers up in some really strange and not even particularly visible spots. and the thing is, i kind of don’t even like this guy’s sticker, but i do really like seeing it, so i really respect that guy. and last night i made direct eye contact with a guy as he put down a slice of pizza and took out a paint marker to write on a trash can. me personally if i made direct eye contact with someone as i was about to write on a trash can i would probably not do that.
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i’ve been making draft posts like this when i get home from a long walk and then not posting them nearly explicitly because i don’t want a bunch of people to read them. sometimes i let one fly and it does get like a hundred notes and i just get pissed off. a few months ago i got so mad about something i kept hitting the ground with sticks as hard as possible and trying to suplex trees and victorian house porch support beams at my friends houses. not to test my strength but rather to feel completely indignantly impotent and to feel myself fail against the weight of the world. i got into a bad car crash and have been disallowed by the weight of the world from driving endlessly and aimlessly through the country and instead have endlessly and aimlessly wandered by foot through a place i have lived in for 3 years but only recently have come to feel like i have any knowledge of. so its hard to say which years are more useless. the years where i was doing stuff people gave a fuck about or the years where i was doing stuff that hurt my legs and feet and i saw more stuff? well at the end of the day i suppose nobody can say for sure…after all, on the internet, nobody knows i’m a seaman.
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elisela · 1 year ago
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an introvert's guide to falling in love on thanksgiving derek x stiles, g, fluff, thanksgiving, 1.6k for @nerdy-stilinski ... just barely getting this up in time haha
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It’s not that Derek doesn’t like being charitable; it’s that Derek doesn’t like people. What he does like is cooking, which is why, every Thanksgiving morning since high school, he’s found a reason to make himself useful in the kitchen and just …. not leave.
All day. 
Slowly, throughout college and grad school, he was put in charge of more and more of the meal, until the only thing he wasn’t responsible for was the appetizers his mother set out early and kept refreshing throughout the day. He has his timeline down to a science at this point, though the menu has evolved over the years to keep up with the guests his mother invites and the new additions always necessitate some last-minute juggling. He starts with the soups a full week in advance; butternut squash and split pea, made in huge proportions and kept frozen until the night before. Same with the gravy, though he’ll add in drippings for extra flavor just before it’s served. He preps the casseroles the day before and lets them sit until the morning, bakes at least half a dozen pies, and usually goes to bed the night before already exhausted for what’s to come.
But as tiring as it all is, he’ll gladly do it when the alternative is mixing with a bunch of college students he doesn’t know, all of whom don’t have another place to go for the holidays. The kitchen, at least, is his refuge.
A refuge that’s invaded far too quickly the next morning.
He hears the humming first; he’s been able to tune out most of the conversations since he was a teenager, though the more repetitive and annoying noises tend to break through occasionally. And while the humming is definitely repetitive, it doesn’t alarm him until it gets closer, closer, and abruptly turns into a low whistle at the threshold of the kitchen. 
Derek grits his teeth and reminds himself that while charity is important to his mother, genuine kindness is more so, and she won’t hesitate to voice any disappointment.
“Does the cooking or the clean-up take longer?” a voice asks, followed shortly by footsteps.
“Not sure,” Derek says, wincing when the potato peeler slips and cuts into his finger. He flips the water on with his wrist, hopefully hiding the blood from sight until his skin knits itself back together seconds later. “My sisters are in charge of cleaning.”
There’s laughter from behind him, and the sound of the wooden spoon he’d been using to brown the butter as it clinks against the pot. “So it doesn’t matter much to you is what I’m getting out of that.”
Derek feels his lips quirk up, despite his reluctance to have his space invaded. “If there’s a single clean dish in this kitchen at the end of the day I’ve failed.” This time, when he hears laughter, he turns around to look at the source of it and almost immediately wishes he hadn’t. If there’s anything that makes Derek a little weak in the knees, it’s pale skin and big, dark eyes, and he looks away before he can take the man in fully and find even more appealing details.
“Need any help getting dirtying them up?” the guy asks. Derek’s about to decline—politely, of course, or God help him if his mother overhears—but then he adds, “Because to be honest it’s kind of awkward being out there, I’m pretty sure everyone knows each other? There are groups, at least, and I was supposed to come with my buddy because we decided it was a Christmas-only trip home this year, only his girlfriend invited him to Tahoe literally this morning and he didn’t tell me until I got here and it also felt awkward to leave, so …”
Derek starts peeling the potatoes again and tells himself to stay strong, but he can feel his resolve crumbling. “I don’t really need much help,” he says; a weak protest, but still true. He does so much of the prep ahead of time that it’s really just managing the timing of it all. The disappointment that radiates from the man is so palpable that Derek caves almost immediately. “But you can cube the potatoes, if you’d like.”
“Yeah, anything,” he hears, and then, “I’m Stiles, by the way.”
Stiles … doesn’t shut up. He talks as he cuts the potatoes in a way that makes Derek think he’s going to lose a finger by the end of the night, an abbreviated life story that gives just enough details to get Derek interested in hearing more. But for every small fact about himself he gives out he asks at least three questions of Derek, everything from his middle name to the first flavor of ice cream he’d ever considered his favorite, and Derek finds himself talking much more than he does to anyone he’s ever met. He doesn’t even realize he’s answering the questions until suddenly they’re knee-deep in an argument over the relative merits of the Wildcat formation and he realizes he’s ignored the timer on the oven going off for a solid two minutes while he details his very short college football career.
“So how’d you get stuck with all the cooking?” Stiles asks hours later, just as Derek’s pulling the turkey out of the oven to rest. He’s holding a casserole dish in his hands and although his body is still, he also seems to be vibrating with energy. “I’m just assuming this isn’t the first time because you seem to have everything under control, whereas I would have probably burned the turkey to get it to cook faster and forgotten like, the rolls or something.”
Derek pauses, still holding on to the roasting pan with both hands. The words send a jolt of adrenaline through him—not the good type, not the type that comes with elation or something equally serotonin-boosting—but dread, and a mild sense of panic.
He couldn’t have forgotten the rolls. He gets the frozen type, bags and bags of them, because once they defrost and rise they only take a few minutes to bake. It’s the last thing he does every year; he takes the casseroles out of the oven and puts four cookie sheets worth of rolls in, and by the time they’re done everything else is on the table. 
“I forgot the rolls,” he says, letting go of the roasting pan and twisting to look at the island, where the shelf he typically keeps the cookie sheets on is depressingly empty. His heart feels like it’s sinking, even though he knows at the same time that there’s plenty of food and it’s not such a big deal. “I forgot to take them out.”
The oven door closes, pulling him out of his head, and Stiles taps at the buttons to set the timer. “I can grab them. Where are they?”
“In the freezer,” Derek says, probably too short, because Stiles raises an eyebrow in response. “Fuck, I never took them out. They take hours to rise, it’s too late. Shit.” 
“So we go without,” Stiles says, shrugging. “If anyone complains, kick them out.” 
He can’t keep himself from frowning. It’s such a simple, little thing, and he tends to get stuck on those at times and the unsettled feeling in his chest can stick around for hours. But then Stiles moves into his line of sight and reaches out, hand closing around his shoulder. “You’re cute when you’re upset,” he says, and grins even though a faint blush appears on his cheeks. “It’s not rolls, but I can make biscuits pretty quick if you’ve got flour and extra butter.”
Some of the pressure lifts off his chest. “Flour’s in the pantry,” he says, and Stiles nods once and turns around, further discussion not needed. Derek still needs to assemble the salads, but he takes a moment to find a clean mixing bowl and the pastry cutter so Stiles can get to work. It takes longer than the rolls would have, but everything is still hot when they come out of the oven, and he can’t even bring himself to care that his sisters will definitely make fun of him for messing up when Stiles breaks off a piece of a biscuit and holds it out for Derek to try.
They’re simple, but good—but even better is the way that Stiles kisses him back when Derek pulls him in, a little overwhelmed by the way the day turned out so differently than he had expected, but grateful.
“Thanks for that,” he says, quietly, when they part, gesturing to the basket Stiles had just piled all the biscuits into. “And everything else.”
“Thanks for letting me hide in here all day,” Stiles says with a grin. “Do you have to stick around for a while after dinner, or can I convince you to get late-night ice cream with me?”
“I could be convinced,” Derek says, picking up the last of the casserole dishes to bring to the table, “but I could also just forget to bring out that cherry pie you’ve been looking at all day and we could keep hiding.”
“Hiding’s good,” Stiles says quickly. “Hiding is great, let’s do that. Just not in here where I assume your sisters will be cursing our names as they clean, so—my place isn’t that far, if you wanna just … hide there. Instead. With the pie. You know, we could always get ice cream to go with the pie, that’s probably the best decision. Do people do a la mode with cherry pie?”
Derek shakes his head and grins, and uses his elbow to urge Stiles in front of him; they’ve only known each other a few hours, but he knows well how easily he can get distracted. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go get this over with and we can find out.”
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i-think-i-did-it-again · 2 years ago
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Fuck buddies III
Warning: smut, swearing, rough sex Author's note: I'm sorry Colson is still being a dick but I promise, he'll get better! Thank you for all the love on this story ❤️
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It’s been a week since you confessed your feelings to Colson and he walked away. You’ve never felt humiliation like that in your entire life. You stood there for what felt like an hour, trying to process what had just happened. You still have no idea why he was so annoyed at you in the first place. You could understand him not wanting to kiss you because all of your friends were there and you haven’t exactly told them about your friends with benefits arrangement but why was he so distant, cold even?
It’s not like he doesn’t like displays of affection. Even when you’re around your friends, he’ll often snuggle up to you on the couch while you’re watching a movie or ask you to play with his hair. No one has ever really questioned it because he’s a pretty affectionate guy. He likes to hug people hello and goodbye, he kisses you on the lips all the time when he comes to your apartment late at night. Why did your touch bother him so much?
“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Rook waves his hand in front of your face and you’re drawn back to reality.
Rook didn’t like your radio silence, so he decided to come over and hang out on an unseasonably cold LA Saturday. You’ve been sitting watching old reruns and eating greasy pizza, neither of you really talking. You’re praying he doesn’t bring up last weekend but you just know you’re not that lucky.
“Sorry, just in my own little world I guess,” you apologise and turn back to the TV.
“Are you going to tell me what’s up or are you just going to keep pretending like everything’s fine?” he looks at you, his brows knitted together and his lips pressed into a thin line.
“There’s really nothing to tell. Colson and I got into a dumb fight last weekend and we’re just being stubborn and waiting for the other to apologise first,” you shrug. 
You’ve been practising that explanation all week in the shower. Making sure you sound believable, making sure your voice doesn’t waver, your eyes don’t give away your pain. You know for a fact that no one will question because you know damn well that Colson will never tell anyone what actually happened. He’ll want to pretend that it didn’t, the same as you.
“So you didn’t tell Kells that you’re in love with him?” you choke on your own breath and stare wide eyed at Rook. “He told me when he stormed back to the booth after you left,” Rook explains and continues talking when you don’t say anything. “He was this weird mix of angry and sad, it was weird. I asked him what was wrong and where you were and he just exploded. He told me he’d fuck up and he doesn’t know how to fix it but he didn’t expect you to say what you said and he didn’t want to be the reason you cry. I was confused at first but then he explained what you guys have been…doing.” 
Blood rushes to your cheeks and you look away as you realise that he knows everything. You’re filled with surprise and shame that Colson would open up like that to Rook. You’ve been fuck buddies for almost 6 months now and the whole point of doing it late at night was so no one knew. It wasn’t like it was a ‘rule’ the two of you made, it was more like an unspoken agreement. You made sure not to make it obvious in front of everyone else that something was up, which was hard to do when sometimes you couldn’t sit down the next day because your ass cheeks were raw. You would catch Colson smirking every now and again when you grimaced whenever you tried to sit or stand. 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed or anything, I mean it makes sense,” Rook misunderstands your silence as embarrassment instead of shock.
“No, it’s not that. I mean this isn’t the most comfortable conversation I’ve had with someone, close friend or not. It’s just…well I’m surprised he told you everything. I guess I just thought he was ashamed of what we were doing and that’s why we’d only hook up late at night when he was drunk and horny.” 
Rook laughs and you scowl at him angrily. He holds his hands up in surrender and your expression softens. You’re not really sure how he could’ve possibly found that funny but his phone ringing interrupts you before you can ask him the question on the tip of your tongue.
“Hello? Oh hey you! I’m just hanging with…a friend,” he looks at you with an apologetic smile.
You assume he’s talking to a woman and he doesn’t want her to know he’s hanging out with another female. You silently excuse yourself and head to the kitchen to pretend you’re getting a drink to give him some privacy. You stare at your embarrassingly empty fridge and make a mental note to go grocery shopping at some point this weekend. You grab out a beer for you and Rook and poke your head around the corner to see if he’s still on the phone. He’s scrolling through the TV channels so you come back in and sit beside him. You silently hand him his beer and watch the basketball game he’s put on.
Rook leaves after the game finishes, and he’s drunk half the beers in the fridge, and you continue to half pay attention to the TV. you’re starting to feel the loneliness begin to creep in so you decide to grab your phone to make a grocery list to keep your mind busy. You have a missed call from a number you don’t recognise but they didn’t leave a message so you decide to ignore it. 
Once you’ve made your grocery list, you grab your house keys and head out the door. You open your front door and squeal when something falls onto you. You look down and see a lump of a human at your feet. You bend down to take a closer look and shoot straight back up when Colson’s bleach blond hair spills out of his dark beanie. His eyes are closed so you assume he’s either asleep or passed out until he speaks.
“Are you going to let me in or are you just going to stand there watching me?” he slurs out and your heart sinks when you realise he’s drunk.
“Don’t know if I really want you to come in to be honest,” you mumble as you stare down at him.
He opens his and they’re a strange mix of hurt and bloodshot. He sits up so he’s now leaning against the door frame and you awkwardly stand there, watching him like a caged tiger. You’re waiting for him to say something but when he doesn’t you begin to feel impatient and unsure of yourself.
“Listen Colson, I was actually going out and you’re kind of blocking me in so if you have something to say, just hurry up and spit it out.” 
You switch from one foot to the other uncomfortably and he laughs. Your cheeks flush and you’re tempted to kick him but you resist as it would probably just make things worse. He hauls himself to his feet with a grumble and you step back to create some distance between the two of you. Colson misreads this as an invitation to come in and closes the door behind him. 
You don’t even see him coming until suddenly his hands are wrapped in your hair and he’s slamming you against your front door. He collides his lips with yours and the breath is literally sucked from your body. His lips are desperate against yours and you’re trying so hard to resist him until he bites your bottom lip. You yelp and he rams his tongue into your mouth. He’s fighting with your resistance, using his strength and the weight of his body to hold you against the door. You want to hate every second of it but you love dominant Colson so much that it’s hard to fight back.
“Stop fucking resisting,” he growls against your cheek.
He grabs a handful of your hair and tugs. You cry out and he grins, pressing his crutch against your pelvis. He runs his teeth against the skin of your neck and you shudder. He flicks his tongue out every now and you shiver with pleasure. You shove against his chest and he tugs your hair again but you don’t cry out this time. Instead you grit your teeth and scowl at him. He flips you over suddenly and slams you back against the door. He holds the back of your head and reaches around to unbutton your jeans. He pulls them down roughly until the pool at your ankles. He runs his fingers up the back of your leg before swatting at your ass cheek. You call out and he presses you harder against the door.
“Tell me how much you love it,” he orders you as you scrunch your eyes closed. When you don’t say anything, he pulls your panties down and smacks you again, harder this time. “Say it!”
“I love when you spank me Colson!” you cry out as your eyes water.
“Call me daddy,” he groans as he presses his hard dick against your butt.
“I love when you spank me, daddy.” 
He groans louder before pulling away and smacking your ass cheek again. You yelp at the sting and he hits you again. He lets go of your head and kneels behind you. He lifts your leg to pull your jeans all the way off, doing the same with the other leg. He stands back up and grabs you by the back of the neck and leads you to your bedroom. He kicks the door closed behind him and pulls his t-shirt off.
“Kneel,” he instructs you as he kicks his Converses off. You follow his instruction and kneel beside your bed. He stands in front of you and you look up at him, waiting for him to speak. “Unbuttons my pants,” you do as you’re told. “Take them off,” he points to his black briefs and you do it. “Suck him,” he grits through his teeth.
You grab his throbbing cock and wrap your lips around the tip. He sucks in a sharp breath and you flick your tongue against his throbbing vein. You tease him, sucking softly, working your tongue lightly over his tip and just below his tip. As soon as he moans, you stop sucking and flick your tongue. You’re enjoying your new game until Colson grabs you by the throat and hauls you to your feet.
“I said fucking suck it, not make out with it!” he yells, throwing you onto your bed. You try to get up but he jumps on top of you and holds your arms down. “Do it properly or I will spank you so hard, you won’t be able to sit for a month. You got it?”
“Yes daddy,” you spit through gritted teeth.
He straddles your chest and you lift your head so you can take his dick back in your mouth. You suck hard this time, bobbing your head up and down while Colson moans above you. You press his cock so far down your throat that gag on it and this only turns him on even more. He begins to throat fuck you, ignoring your gags and choking. Finally he pulls out of your mouth and you gasp for breath, rasping and coughing.
“That’s what you get for teasing me, don’t ever fucking do it again,” he threatens you and pulls himself off your chest. 
He tears your t-shirt from your body, literally rips it in two, and throws it to the floor. He pulls you up by your arms so he can unhook your bra and then he pushes you back down. He uses his thumb and forefingers to pinch your nipples and you cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He flicks your nipples, making you convulse off the bed. You’re writhing and moaning under his skilled fingers. He attaches his lips to your neck and sucks hard, marking you. He flicks his tongue to soothe your tender skin. He kisses his way up to your ear and nibbles your earlobe. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of him on top of you.
“Just so you know, this is the last time, so savour the moment,” he whispers in your ear and your eyes spring open. 
You try to sit up but Colson’s body is holding you down against your mattress. You try again but he won’t let you move. You’re trying so hard to thrash against him, you don’t care if he spanks you so hard you can’t sit for a month, you need to look at him, you need him to not do this.
“Let me up!” you scream at him but he doesn’t budge. “Colson, get the fuck off me!” 
You push your hands against his chest but he just wraps his hand around your wrists and holds them above your head. You can feel the tears threatening to spill over and you’re trying so hard to hold them back. Even though you hate just being Colson’s fuck buddy but having any type of intimacy with him is better than nothing. You know you’re just torturing yourself but you don’t care. Colson finally looks at you and for the first time, you notice the dark circles under his eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.
“Wh-why? I don’t want to stop,” you know you sound desperate but you can’t stop the whine in your voice.
“I’m not…what you want. I’m not good for you,” he looks away from you and your stomach twists. 
“I don’t give a fuck! If this is about what I said the other night, I didn’t mean it. I take it back!” 
His head whips back to you and he lets your wrists go. He scrambles off you like you just burnt him and you’re so confused. You sit up, pulling your knees to your chest, and watch him. He grabs his boxers and pulls them on. He yanks his jeans on next and you want to say something but you’re not sure what. You don’t want him to leave. This is what he always does. As soon as things get too real, he runs.
“D-don’t l-leave, p-please?” your voice cracks as you beg him. 
He looks at you and his eyes soften. The tears you’ve been fighting to hold back finally slip from your eyes and you’re so utterly embarrassed and broken. He takes a tentative step towards you and the floodgates break. A soft sob crawls its way up your throat and your body begins to shake. Colson sits on the edge of your bed and hesitates for a second before he pulls you to him. You swing your leg over his lap so you’re straddling him. He holds you against his chest and you bury your face in the crook of his neck and he strokes your hair.
“Shhh, it’s ok baby, I’m here. I’m not leaving,” he soothes you softly.
You let him hold you, soaking in every piece of information so that you can remember this moment forever. The feeling of his fingers in your hair, the sound of his breathing in your ear, the smell of his cologne mixed with weed, the rise and fall of his chest against yours. The moment is borderline perfect and your mind is turning to mush from the pure endorphins coursing through your veins.
“I’m sorry,” you hiccup against his throat.
“For what?” he sounds confused but he keeps stroking your hair.
“Telling you I love you.”
“Fuck Y/N,” he groans and throws his head back.
“What?” you pull back to look at him and his angry glare is back.
“I-I don’t want you to take it back! I don’t give a fuck that you said it! It doesn’t mean shit to me either way. Love me, don’t love me, it doesn’t change a fucking thing!” he screams and shoves you away from him.
You scramble to your feet, covering your bare chest with your arms. He's so angry, you hardly recognise him. Where did the fun, easy going guy you fell in love with go? He just seems so cold now. You stare at him stunned, the tears coming in wave after wave now. You feel your chest tightening and breathing is getting harder and harder to do. You imagine this is what a panic attack may feel like but you can’t be too sure. You’re too focused on watching Colson dress, mumbling and cursing under his breath. You just stand there dumbfounded, trying to find the words to make him stop but not having the physical strength to say anything. You feel this overwhelming weight begin to crash down on you and all you can do is stand there and take it. Colson doesn’t even look at you as he storms out of your bedroom. 
‘This is the last time, so savour it.’
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hydrangeyes · 1 year ago
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Snowball Fight
So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!
I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.
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This is a barely edited rambly cliché, empty brain hrs, I’ll edit this out if there isn’t any. Anyway, I’ve been called in early for work so this will be hella late.
Hawks x Male reader, demon quirk (it’s not that important)
headcanon that keigo does not like cold weather, that yeah cool air on his wings are great but ice cold about to make icicles cold? hard pass.
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It was a crisp freezing cold Christmas week. Monday to be exact. Everything was covered in snow and the few brave (or stupid) souls out that afternoon were running about last minute Christmas shopping. It was this upcoming  thursday after all.
And thank whoever up there Keigo found himself off for the holidays, because he did not like the cold weather. See his wings can keep him warm but his wings themselves couldn’t take how harsh the winter air gets in the sky. So he’s been dubbed “useless unless it’s an emergency”. After all, it’s not like there’s gloves for every individual feather.
Letting out a bored sigh, he thinks about what he can do right now, not going to his apartment was one. Days off were a blessing but how empty his place was around this time made him antsy. A thought to call- no. Just pick up a bucket of chicken and go home, not think about- a dull wack to the back of his head sends him tumbling forward.
“P-pfft!! Hahahaha!!!” A familiar laugh coming from behind him. Keigo straightens turning with a fake smile. There behind him was his current avoidance. Y/n L/n, a good friend turned benefits that well…He was catching feelings for.  They started out as work buddies, Enji asking him to test a new recruit with a ‘demon’ like quirk.
And boy was he a beast. A tall 6’0, tight but soft muscles, hooded f/c eyes, and black hair styled up to reveal an undershave. Y/n’ whole look fit his sharp teeth, horned head, magic quirk. To be honest, hawks was a little bit surprised that y/n was a hero. Given he looked more on the villain side, he was surprised y/n got this far.
But after the test it didn’t take long for them to start up a casual friendship. Keigo smiled a little at the thought. Y/n was easy going and fun to be around. He didn’t expect anything from him and that just broke down a lot of the reservation keigo had. To say it took long for him to catch some type of feelings from their fuck friends arrangement, would be a fat lie.
It was fun and had him dazed easily. But it was the softness after and the hang outs that felt like dates that made him feel like he needed to run.
Which was his current problem. Having all avoided the man for a few weeks now to figure out what to do with these new emotions. Keigo felt guilty about it but well he was never taught how to handle these types of emotions…. In a good, healthy way at least.
“So much for being the quickest baby bird.” Y/n teases once he’s close enough. Snapping back to the present Keigo huffs pretending to be annoyed, his growing blush at the closeness kind of giving him away. “Mah, what has you so distracted?” Y/n asks, chuckling as Keigo gets redder. Scowling slightly, Keigo picks up a handful of snow and quickly packs it with a swing.
Y/n yelps as it hits his face. And seeing Y/n with such a surprised expression sends Keigo into a snort of laughter. Y/n blinks looking at his friend laughing up a storm, his wings drooping in the release of tension and grins. Good, he missed his idiot.
“Oh it’s on.” Y/n said, starting a mini snowball fight war, that grew as fans and kids joined in. Keigo can’t exactly say when he’s felt this light and happy (outside of learning he was gonna meet endeavor as an equal). As it got darker, things started to slow and with some pictures taken and left alone to catch their breaths.  It ended with just him and Y/n.
Let out one more breath before slinging an arm over Keigo’s shoulders, this was not where he was trying to go with looking for Keigo but- Y/n hums as Keigo presses into him freely as the wind starts to pick up. -This was perfect.
“Hey. My place?” Y/n mumbles hopefully
Suddenly Keigo couldn’t help but want to be working rather than having to answer that.  Adrenaline came back and he pulled away a bit unsure. Y/n sighs feeling the tension come back.
“What did I do?” Keigo quickly looks up at in confused “Wha-”
“Look I know when someone is avoiding me. So I’m guessing you want to break this whole arrangement off or something?” Y/n say as calmly as he could, but there was an edge of defeat in his tone. Keigo felt his wings ruffle and try to curl around the both of them. It was old, dark, and too public (they were in a park the back of his mind whispered). 
He would at least have this conversation somewhere warm and private. “Can we talk…at your place?” his eyes focused on y/n’s shoulder. “Yeah.” Y/n mumbles back, with a flick of his hand opening a portal to his living room and shuffling them in. Keigo shivers at the shift in temperatures kicking off his boots and plopping onto the couch, as y/n does the same with his shoes following after.
“Than-”
Y/n leans down pressing a kiss to keigo’s lips. Balancing himself with one hand on the couch a bit hunched over. He kept his body relaxed just in case keigo wanted to push him away. But he didn’t, instead gripping his coat and using it to tug him closer, deepening the kiss.
(Watch as my writing changes now that I found mood music, at least to me it does)
“I love you. I fell in love with you and I’m terrified” Keigo whispers softly, the words ringing through the nearly empty apartment. Keigo chuckles wetly as he felt himself tremble but he held on and nipped at y/n’s bottom lip. Y/n stares down at him, eyes unmoving breath escalating. 
“Heh…heheheh-” Y/n sucks in a breath as euphoria courses through him in a wave and he knocks keigo back full onto the couch kissing him recklessly. “My sweet, beautiful keigo.. I love you too. And there is nothing you need to be scared of.” Y/n whispers back at a startled keigo.
Both gave each other shaky smiles, neither able to articulate the sheer happiness they were feeling. So with another boost of adrenaline, Y/n leans down to start his journey loving every bit of Keigo freely.
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frodo-with-glasses · 2 years ago
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More Reading Thoughts: The Scouring of the Shire
YOOOOOO HECK YEAH LET’S GOOOOOOOOO
(Okay so I downloaded Phil Dragash’s reading of this and listened to it on the longest plane flight of my trip and may or may not have made a total fool of myself grinning at it throughout LOLOL)
(But I didn’t have time to write my reactions to it until now so here we go)
“On the further side of the river they could see that some new houses had been built…all very gloomy and un-Shirelike” Uh-oh.
BAHAHAHA the way Sam immediately goes OFF
“SCREW YOU AND YOUR STUPID SIGN TOO”
I love Merry trying to be a diplomat
Frodo like “oh goodness gracious, now what trouble has that Lotho gotten up to with MY house”
(Also that little bit of stealth sass like “well I’m GLAD he’s not calling himself a Baggins anymore, I can pretend I’m not associated with him”)
Merry be like “Fine, if you won’t open this gate, I’LL OPEN IT FOR MYSELF”
YO WHAAAAAT?? BILL FERNY?????
I mean I can’t say that I’m happy to see him but also it’s kinda fun to be this surprised. I’d forgotten all about him being here!
Haha the way he immediately runs away from Merry once he’s challenged tho
“Neat work, Bill!” HAHAHAHA
EAT PONY HOOF, LOSER
GOOD JOB BILL (the pony)
I love the fact that 50% of the hobbits’ intimidation factor comes from the fact that Merry and Pippin are so BigTM (and the other 50% is Swords)
Pippin listening to all this talking like “heck, I’m tired and wet and I don’t have time for this, just let me sleep in a shack if you want” is such a mood
Also Pippin tearing down the rule lists LOL
Sam has had it up to HERE with this nonsense
Me, at all the burning going on: “Uh-oh.”
“Looking both important and rather scared” Heehee X-D
“‘What’s all this?’ said Frodo, feeling inclined to laugh.” Me too, Frodo!
“Calling your Chief Names, Wishing to punch his Pimply Face, and Thinking you Shirriffs look a lot of Tom-fools.” OKAY SAM GO OFF LOLOL
OKAY SO at this point in the audiobook Mr. Dragash had the most BRILLIANT reading for this line:
“To the discomfiture of the Shirriffs Frodo and his companions all… [dramatic pause, then raucous laughter erupts in the background] …roared with laughter.”
I LOVE IT SO MUCH IT’S SO PERFECT AHAHAHA
He also had a great reading for this part:
The sheriff, shouting after them, insistent but nervous: “But don’t forget! I’ve arrested you!” Frodo, with the softest voice ever: “I won’t. Never. But I may forgive you.”
Sam has a friend! :-D
I mean I’m sorry that this is the way we find it out but he has!! A buddy!!
Now I’m sure “cock-robin” must have had a different meaning in Tolkien’s time…
“If I hear not allowed much oftener, I’m going to get angry.” Same, Sam.
Eeeew the table hasn’t been scrubbed for WEEKS?? I can only imagine it looking like the underside of a restaurant table, months-old crusty chewing gum stuck on it and all. Blergh 🤮
LOLOL “They would have started earlier, only the delay so plainly annoyed the sheriff-leader”
Our four hobbits have come back from their adventure so delightfully full of SassTM
My word, if I keep pointing out every funny thing that happens here I’ll be writing down the whole chapter. Look at the hobbits hustling the sheriffs who were supposed to be “arresting” them!
NOW WHO’S ARRESTED WHO INDEED 🤣🤣
For someone who’s supposed to be arrested, it sure looks like Merry is the one who’s in charge :-3
And all the sheriffs like “WE GIVE UP” and the hobbits like “okay :-D”
ROBIN WAS ONE OF THE SHERIFFS THAT THEY WERE MESSING WITH OH NO 🤣🤣
“We shall break a good many things yet, and not ask you to answer. Good luck to you!” OKAY PIPPIN GO OFF
(......This is getting very long so I’m gonna put the rest under a read-more)
Nooooo look what they’ve done to Hobbiton D-8
This whole conversation is so tense. I find myself wanting to cheer on the hobbits’ comebacks, but the ruffian here always gets the upper hand in the next line…
DON’T SNAP YOUR FINGERS IN FRODO’S FACE!! Heckin’ RUDE! Only the Sackville-Bagginses have ever done that, and that’s BEFORE Frodo saved the world! D-:<
HECK YES, PIPPIN!! TELL ‘EM!!
“Down on your knees in the road and ask pardon, or I will set this troll’s bane in you!” >8-D Friendly reminder that Pippin stabbed a troll in the gut to sAVE BEREGOND— *is slapped*
The fact that Pippin, Merry and Sam immediately jump to Frodo’s defense, but Frodo does not. That says so much about their friendship, and about Frodo, and how they all see themselves and their roles in this story…and it’s so sad that Frodo hangs back, not even willing to defend himself…
But also how bad*ss is that, letting your three armed friends charge to your defense while you just sit there impassively?? It’s like the “cool guys don’t look at explosions” trope.
Pippin has exactly the childish drive for revenge that you’d think he would, but Frodo sees the reality of the situation and knows Lotho has been played as a puppet and is now a prisoner to his own schemes. Good stuff.
Frodo: “Violence isn’t the answer.” Merry: “You’re right. It’s the question, and the answer is yes.”
MERRY’S SPEECH HERE YESSSS
(The way the music swelled here in Dragash’s audiobook was so good ahahaha)
“Come on! I am going to blow the horn of Rohan, and give them all some music they have never heard before.”
OH.
HECK.
YEEEEAAAHHH!!!!!!! >8-D
(And this was the part of the audiobook where I grinned like an idiot and clapped my hands and bounced a little in my seat and probably confused the guy in the seat next to me LOLOL)
Sam HIMSELF wants to turn back for the horn call!! And so does Bill! Aaaaahhh!!
AWAKE! AWAKE! FEAR, FIRE, FOES! AWAKE!!
This was so well foreshadowed by the Ringwraiths in Buckland at the beginning of the book I cannot bELIEVE—!!
TOLKIEN YOU GENIUS
(Writer Brain is just buzzing with this right now, sorry, LOL)
“And your face is no worse than it was, Sam.” Is Farmer Cotton calling Sam ugly?? 🤣🤣 He’s roasting his future son-in-law LOLOL I love him already
Even Farmer Cotton ships Sam and Rosie ROFL
Rosie just asked why you left Mister Frodo! What do you do??
>Tell her you love her
>Run away
Sam ran away! (What a mood)
I love that they built the fire just for fun and because it’s against the rules, LOL! A fire is exactly the thing that would cheer me up too!!
I assume Robin was one of the sheriffs that took off his feather and joined in the revolt :-D
Merry like, “See, Frodo?? Violence!!”
“Good for the Tooks!” HECK YEAH
“I’ll bring you an army of Tooks in the morning!” HECK YEAH!!
It’s so sweet of Frodo to be like “I still don’t want anyone to die” but also still turning the logistics over to Merry’ cause he’s The Plan Guy
What have I said all along?? Merry is the Smart One :-D
FARMER COTTON JUST SITTING BY THE FIRE
WAITING FOR THEM TO COME
Okay Sam’s father-in-law is heckin’ BAD*SS I LOVE HIM
This is literally “put down your weapons, I’ve got a sniper with a bead on you”
“He aimed a savage blow at Merry who stood in his way. He fell dead with four arrows in him.” YOOOOOOOOO!!
I like to think Merry didn’t even flinch. Just like…watched him keel over dead. HECK.
I love how bad*ss all the hobbits get to be in this chapter ahahaha
Aaaaand all the others give up. Nice >:-D
Aww, Farmer Cotton and the Gaffer are friends! And Cotton would have housed the Gaffer himself if he could have!! I love how sweet they all are to each other ^-^
HA! Okay, Lobelia, that’s pretty cool, I admit. Maybe you’re all right after all. ;-P
The Gaffer just telling Frodo off for leaving 🤣🤣 And Frodo politely apologizing!! Because even though the Gaffer’s problems are small in comparison to everything else happening in the world, they’re still important! I’m love
AAAAAHHHHH FRODO GASSING UP SAM IN FRONT OF HIS DAD AND ROSIE AND EVERYBODY 8-D 8-D 8-D
This is so stinkin’ cute. Lookit my silver-tongued Baggins using his Words of Affirmation again! It’s the least he can do to repay Sam for all he’s done, but I think it’s the thing that means the most to Sam.
Frodo: “Indeed, if you will believe it, he’s now one of the most famous people in all the lands, and they are making songs about his deeds from here to the Sea and beyond the Great River!” Sam: 😳😅☺️ Rosie: 😲😍🥰 The Gaffer: “Sounds fake but okay”
THE TOOKS ARE HEREEEEE
I frickin’ love the “lure them into a trap and surround them with hobbits” tactic. You never think hobbits can be scary until there are A LOT OF THEM VERY SUDDENLY
I also think this is a fun use of the hobbits’ canonical superpower of staying hidden in plain sight.
HECK YEAHHHHH MERRY LET’S GO
Seventy ruffians dead, and only nineteen hobbits on the other. As casualties go, that’s not bad! Sad that any hobbits died at all, of course, but it’s a relatively clean victory.
Also the book gets Very Historical for a moment and I think that’s Very Funny
Heck yeah Cottons!
HECK YEAH MERRY AND PIPPIN!!
And Frodo does his part by protecting the ruffians who surrendered! The pacifist has a role to play. :-D
Noooo, look what they’ve done to Bag End!! D-8
NOOOOOO THE PARTY TREEEEE 😭😭😭
ME TOO, SAM, UWAAAAAHHH—
(Ted Sandyman accidentally foreshadowing Sam going over the Sea??)
Frodo is very right. If more hobbits are like Ted, the Shire is in real trouble. Worse is the enemy within than the enemy from without. :-/
“Save your breath! I’ve a better.” HAHAHA YES MERRY LET’S GO
Oh but look what they’ve done to Bag Endddd 😭😭😭
“Yes, this is Mordor.” Thanks, I hate it :-C
“If I had known all the mischief he had caused, I should have stuffed my pouch down Saruman’s throat.” Dude Merry sounded so angry in Phil Dragash’s audiobook here. (Also can’t believe that Merry’s bag has become the running joke that it is LOLOL)
>8-O >8-O >8-O SARUMAN!!
Saruman: “Ah, yes, they called me Sharkey in Isengard! A sign of affection, possibly.” Tolkien, in a footnote: “It was not, in fact, a sign of affection.”
I….do not like….how Saruman casts such aspersions on Gandalf. Nor how his accusations almost seem to have some merit at the moment. “When his tools have done their task he drops them.” That is dangerously close to accurate, or at the moment it feels like it is. Gandalf did leave them, even knowing that things were going wrong in the Shire…
But at the same time, it’s not Gandalf’s job to fix everything himself! The hobbits got to participate in the saving of their world, and they got the honor and the renown and the incredible experiences and the personal growth that comes along with it. Same thing here; they get the opportunity to be the heroes and save their own home. It isn’t easy, but it is good, and it has its own rewards.
“Well, if that’s what you find pleasure in, I pity you.” Frodo couldn’t be more right. Anyone who takes pleasure and comfort in the pain and misery of others is a pitiable person.
Frodo still refuses to kill. His home was defiled…his last comfort stolen…and his honor insulted to his face…and he still refuses to kill Saruman. Holy cow that takes some major strength of character. What an absolute chad.
YO WHAT
SARUMAN TRIED TO STAB FRODO
(And Sam leads the charge to avenge Frodo because Of Course He Does)
AND FRODO STILL WILL NOT KILL
THE ABSOLUTELY CHADDERY OF THIS HOBBIT
Talk about heaping coals on your enemy’s head, bruh. Even Saruman has to respect it.
And Frodo extending the olive branch to Wormtongue. Truly the G.O.A.T.
>8-O
EYOOOO??
WORMTONGUE KILLED LOTHO??
AND MAYBE A T E HIM????
Holy COW this got dark 0_o
(Also Dragash made Wormtongue sound absolutely miserable on that “you told me to; you made me do it”)
Aaaand Saruman is dead
And Wormtongue is dead
Something something Saruman’s spirit looking to the West, from which he came, and where he can never return again, and then being blown away to nothingness…
It really is the saddest thing that the end of the war happens at the door of Bag End. Nowhere is safe. The movies have the hobbits return to an unchanged Shire, realizing that they’re the ones who’ve been changed by their experiences, and they’ll never be able to see home the same way again (which is, I think, analogous to the experience of American Vietnam vets)…..but here in the book, the war comes home, marring the very land that our heroes set out to protect, which is what Tolkien experienced at the end of the Great War. They’re different kinds of tragedy, and they both hurt, but I think this one is just an edge more bitter.
…..Anyway, I loved this chapter! It ends with on a downer note, but the rest of it was a lot of fun. X-P
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ignoranxed · 11 months ago
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EDIT: I just realised I watched till ep 2 without realising and put some ep 2 content on here as well, so I'll be making a seperate post with some more content from both the wos in a bit!!
MONN guess who’s watched ep 1&2 for our #vvrewatch2024!! i was legit kicking my feet, giggling like a 15 year old, going absolutely BALLISTIC at peun and talay and their universe travelling friendship 😭😭😭
here is a brief rundown of my thoughts on these episodes. there are definitely SEVERAL more things that I thought/felt while watching but your girl isn’t so inept with an online community watch party hehe. don’t you worry, though!! that shall definitely get better in the coming few weeks!! now for the rundown
1. how young were our boys?? like ik they’re both old enough (older than me at least!!) but do you see they were such babies??? ohh man i missed my clumsy talay and my cutely annoying peun 😭😭😭 i mean just look at them mon
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2. i cannot help but notice and appreciate how much care and attention this show was made with. like look at the colours in this picture
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i wish i’d taken a video of this scene because what mastery. the colours, the angles, the background score, the sets, the sheer artistry of this production never ceases to amaze me and you shall be hearing a lottt more about it from me in the coming weeks, my love.
3. borrowing from my previous point, this show is soo magical, mon. like this point is just an appreciation for moments like the one below. i remember watching this one with goosebumps because the lighting, jimmy’s singing, js’s acting, the camera angles everything just makes you feel like you’re in a dream. maybe that’s how it was for peun & talay over here because i’m universe travelling ???? and i found someone from my own universe ??? like what??? too good man, i really cannot fall in love with this show enough
4. i do not have a picture for this, but throughout these eps, in the scenes where you see the switch between sea and ohm, there are so many instances where you can see the confusion/hope/conviction in sea’s face (it also translates into ohm’s btw) as he tries to get this pakorn to talk to him and get back to his universe/life. i’ll take a picture to show you in my next post maybe (because a girls texting you from work lmaoo) but this was just one of those parts where you could see the care and attention that went into making VV
5. bonus point. this scene was hilarious 🤣🤣 sea swearing will always be soo cute to me, like look at this cutie patootie swearing heheheh
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6. second bonus point. again no pic, but what a gift ep1 must’ve been for the bad buddy fans?? since vv was my first bl, i was admittedly CLUELESS during my first watch of the show. with this rewatch though, since i’ve already watched bbts, i can really see how much people would’ve lost their minds during ep 1&2. the fact that we even got milklove??? chef’s kiss 🤌🏽🤌🏽🤌🏽
that’s all of my thoughts for the first 2 eps mon!! i cannot wait to hear your thoughts babe, and sooo excited for this communal rewatch experience :)))
@stormyoceans @cryingoverweiying get on with the watch and tell me your thoughts asap, besties!!
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talesfromthebacklog · 1 year ago
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Tales From The Backlog: Super Mario Bros Wonder
9/10
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ALRIGHT. I LIED. The fomo got me after I saw the singing piranha plants OKAY?
And to be honest, I picked it up on (employee) discount after a bit thinking I wouldn’t get to it as soon as I did. But I’ve been knock out drag out sick since Sunday before Thanksgiving and platformers are traditionally my feel good sick games. I was sick two weeks in a ROW WITH TWO DIFFERENT ILLNESSES. (Neither of which were COVID shockingly.)
BACK TO BACK.
I couldn’t even taste vinegar that well. VINEGAR. I debated on just writing fanfiction and skipping this week too but weirdly I found inspiration in Wonder and Rayman Legends. Both types of platformers I am not historically drawn to.
BUT TODAY IS ABOUT MARIO.
I mean this in no uncertain terms, Mario Wonder is THE BEST 2D Mario experience to date. Hands down. No questions asked. I will die on that hill. I feel like Nintendo has really made it a priority to try and knock their mainline Switch titles out of the ballpark and they keep landing the hits.
Now I think Nintendo always has decent quality titles. At their core they’re almost always built well, functional, and decently fun. But the opinion that their 2D “New” Super Mario franchise was getting old, repeated, and stale is not a new one. I think Mario Wonder really encompasses how I feel about the Switch in general. As always Nintendo has stuff they can improve on, but it is clear they really are pushing to make the games truly special this generation.
WiiU (which the short lifespan is partially to blame for this) is so… empty of personality in comparison to the Switch library even at launch. Like the indie and niche selections? Don’t even get me STARTED.
The WiiU sank so the Switch could fly.
But this isn’t a review of the Switch. It’s a review of Mario Wonder. If you can’t tell I really love it. And this is a legit opinion. I’m not in the paid corporate pockets of IGN or Nintendo. No. The game really is just that solid.
Firstly Mario Wonder has so much personality. I dare say it has old Paper Mario levels of personality. It has a small selection of power ups, but it makes up for this in satisfying level design and… general amusement.
Those singing piranha plants are a really great example. As that is what made me crawl over and go “fine”. I don’t buy 2D Mario’s on launch. I just don’t like them enough. But I think it’s such a good example as to what the game is like as a whole. Mario Wonder is constantly finding new ways to be entertaining and enjoys doing so.
It even starts off with a “bit”. You choose your character and for the intro you walk to the kingdom through a stage as your selected character. The other unselected characters? They’re all here too walking to the kingdom! We were all walking together! Everyone was accounted for! It was so cute and a great introduction to the experience.
On top of standard levels there are all sorts of hidden areas, secret exits, alternate routes, challenges, and collectibles that pay off.
And listen. I know the series is called the MARIO series, but seeing multiple female characters to play as that weren’t locked behind easy mode or late game is amazing. I still distinctly remember being a child myself and us girls fighting over who got to be the ONE GIRL in any of the older Marios.
And then we’d fight about who got Yoshi. Because if we couldn’t be pretty we wanted to be cute.
Anyway most of the time I played Luigi. Now that I’m older and have refined taste Luigi is my favorite.
…But I still pick Peach or Rosalina preferentially! Sorry buddy I like being the pink one and I’m healing my childhood hurt! I DESERVED A TURN TO BE THE PRINCESS BETHANY!
Whatever. I was annoying anyway. They had to eliminate pink carpet squares from a preschool because I was so territorial about having them to myself. So don’t feel bad for me.
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Anyway.
Mario Wonder is also a departure from the “New” Super Marios Bros style. Which is… thank god. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that style looks bad. It doesn’t.
But it does look like nothing, especially in comparison to the more stylish pieces they’ve been putting out as of late. Mario Wonder exudes style from start to finish. We are finally in an era where it’s okay for cartoons to look like cartoons again. Sorry if you like the older style, but its blankness was always a turn off for me. That doesn’t make the games inherently bad though. They’re… solid Marios. Just not solid… interesting Marios.
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Stylistically I do like it when companies like SEGA dip their toes into “realism” like with Sonic. (Sonic gets to have both. They’re clearly not as consistent as Mario but they have both styles to satisfy all tastes. Though Sonic could use some stronger stylization too. We’re getting there.).
But Mario… is so unique in concept and aesthetic that when they stray from the more intense stylization, I think it’s a disservice. Sonic is unique too! But Mario almost reminds me of Alice in Wonderland. That is another franchise that demands strong aesthetics for its weird choices and suffers without them. Mario is weird in every sense and I think it IS very much like Alice in Wonderland in terms of style and story. I see very strong parallels. Mario is a weird fantasy story. Wonder especially seems to really take note of this stylistically.
And I’m not suggesting “New” Super Mario Bros is realistic per se… but I wouldn’t call it stylized in the same way Wonder or even Odyssey is. It’s cookie cutter and easy to produce. Which I do get, I don’t necessarily dink companies for that. But it’s still obvious that effort on this level produced results.
The color choices of Mario Wonder are also… wow. This game is just an amazing glow up. Can you tell I think the game is pretty? The backgrounds, the colors, the models. I love how we’re exploring a different kingdom which allows for even more environmental diversity.
Then there’s the levels themselves.
Again. I like 2D Marios, but normally I solidly enjoy his 3D endeavors more. (This is not unique to Mario. I feel this way about Sonic as well. So I’m not blaming Mario for player preference).
Mario Wonder is a big exception. Mario Wonder hits all the sweet spots in my brain and takes a lot of the stuff I liked about 3D World and enhanced it. The collectibles to unlock standees is cute. I like that the seeds lock progression because most areas don’t require a lot. (Well. I’m 100%ing each level so I’ve not actually run into an area that told me I didn’t have enough)
Most of the levels have two faces to them which has so many benefits! For example when I mess up the flag pole, if I simply skip the wonder flower for certain levels it physically shortens the level so I can try again. This can also provide alternate exits which net you additional seeds.
The effects the wonder flower have on each level can also be wildly unpredictable. I don’t always know what challenge or activity I am walking in to and I think this was an awesome tactic to keep players on their toes.
For those who like challenge there are more challenging levels available. I don’t often ‘struggle’ in Mario games as an adult but there were a few stages that required real skill to get through and 100%.
Right off the bat there are lots of little explorable avenues clearly off the intended path on the map. I like the player autonomy in that and I like finding weird little nooks. You also get rewarded for this by getting extra seeds, special areas, and badges.
Oh yeah. Badges. This was a weird idea to see pop up outside of Paper Mario, but honestly about time? This was another choice I liked a LOT. Special abilities used to be adhered to certain characters (Hence Peach being treated as easy mode). Now you can apply a badge with special abilities onto any character! And there are lots of badges and abilities. Levels will even have side areas and challenges that require the use of certain badges. Of course some levels are clearly geared to support certain badges as well. And you can change them out darn near at any time. Badges are great. I love swapping them out and problem solving. While most are just functional; some badges are just small rewards throughout a level. I like those too.
The only thing I really can’t commentate on is multi-player. It supports local multiplayer which I’m sure is solid.
I know some people are split on how they feel about the talking flower. I like it. That’s it. Also the caterpillar prince sitting on your shoulder as you run around is dumb cute. He wears the little badge you’re using and you can see it in the levels.
The weird online multiplayer shadow thing I haven’t tried (which is what those standees are even for). I may try that this week and amend the post to include my thoughts on that.
I think the inclusion of an almost brand new set of power-ups was a strong choice. It’s a new kingdom with new activities. It’s okay to be different! (As long as it’s good). The costumes for the power-ups are killer on all of the characters. I like pink Bubble Mario. He makes me happy! I’m rocking that as my Nintendo Avatar right now! 🤣
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Overall Wonder is so solid! We can’t keep it in stock at the small game store I work at! When I go to look physically at other big stores I’m not seeing them in stock there often either. Along with Mario RPG, we can’t keep that in stock either.
It’s crazy how on point the new Mario voice actor is. Makes me wonder if they searched for new voice actors during auditions for the movie as a cover. (Initially, not after they announced Chris Pratt as Mario) They managed to keep it under wraps somehow. Cause how else would you hide Mario voice auditions? That’s speculation though. I do need to rewatch the movie to see if they out any Wonder easter eggs in. Probably not.
If you’re looking for a strong AAA title this is it. I think I’m out of nice things to say and I have to prep for my birthday tomorrow! (I’ll be 30.)
So! Take it easy! And don’t get sick this season like I did.
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hayleyhearts · 2 years ago
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Ao3 is down so I decided to post a cut scene from an early draft of my latest Timkon 50k friends with benefits fic! In this version of the story, Tim thinks they’re fuck buddies and Kon thinks they’re already dating lmaooo enjoy! 
“Are you scared to tell your family?” Kon asked, lying on his stomach across the picnic blanket on the grass. He’d planned a late lunch for them on a secluded New York beach. It was a crappy beach, with a polluted ocean and grassy hills pressed right up against the sand which was mostly sharp pebbles. It had an endless blue sky and guaranteed privacy though, which was what Kon had been looking for. 
Tim poured himself a glass of wine. 
“I’m not scared. I’m preemptively annoyed, because none of them have any sense of boundaries.” 
Kon gave him a look.
“I can be annoyed and a hypocrite. My private life is none of their business. And my sexuality shouldn’t change anything, so why do I need to shout it from the rooftops?” 
Kon held out his empty glass and when Tim didn’t refill it, used his TTK to tilt the bottle. 
“I would’ve made a move way sooner if I knew you were gay.” 
Tim was too flattered to give him a proper eye roll.
“How much sooner?” 
Kon swirled the wine in his glass and pretended to think about it. 
“3, 4 years.” 
This time, Tim rolled his eyes. 
“Yeah, right.” 
“I’m so serious,” he said, forcing a light-hearted tone that betrayed a touch of insecurity. That made Tim pause. Maybe he was serious. 
“What about you?” Kon asked, sitting up, “I mean— when was it, for you?” 
“Well, when you kissed me, I figured, what the hell?” 
Kon crawled on top of him and Tim let him, setting his wine glass on the charcuterie board with a smirk. 
“Yeah, right,” Kon parroted back to him, pinning him to the blanket. “I bet it was the Costa Rica mission. I looked really sexy in that wet suit.” 
“I was pretty distracted by the robot sharks.” 
“No, I know what it was,” his eyes lit up, “After we fought Luthor and the drones, back when I still wore my leather jacket. I got pissed off at everybody, stole a motorcycle, and just drove off like a badass.”  
“I think I was probably upset. And worried about you.” 
“But you were a little into it,” he gave him sly look, “Because you have a thing for bad boys. Obviously.” 
“Oh, right. Because of my crush on Jaime.” 
Kon scooped him up and rolled to flip their positions, but kept him wrapped in his arms. Tim smiled down on him. 
“You’re full of shit. I’m the baddest boy you know.”   
“Remember when you baked a second batch of cookies because you felt bad you didn’t save one for Bart.” 
“Totally irrelevant.” 
“Remember when you— what are you doing?” 
Kon grinned. He floated three feet into the air, Tim lying on top of him. 
“Remember that time we had sky sex?” 
Tim raised his eyebrows, but he was smiling too. 
“No way. You’ll lose concentration and drop.” 
“You don’t think I can keep it up?” 
Tim reached down and unzipped Kon’s pants. He didn’t ask if Kon had done this before, because if he had, they all would’ve heard about it for weeks. It was exciting, getting to do something together for the first time. Even if it was something stupid that was probably going to end with something sprained. He sat up, balancing with his knees on Kon’s legs until he felt his TTK wrap him up securely in position. 
“I’ll do it as an exercise to improve your concentration.” 
“Ooh, yeah, baby. Tell me my mission objective.” 
Tim couldn’t tell him anything because he swallowed his dick into his mouth. To his credit, he managed to stay in the air until he came, and Tim didn’t sprain anything because Kon broke his fall. The wine glasses were collateral damage, but they still had half a bottle protected carefully in the picnic basket. 
They laid on the blanket face to face, with the smell of salt in the air and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. 
“Happy one month,” Kon joked. “You’re— I’ve been… um. It’s been cool.” 
Tim knew it’d been a month since this whole friends with benefits thing started, but he didn’t expect Kon to remember something like that. It was probably because they got together on the night of the Wendy premiere, a date he’d never forget. A part of Tim wondered if this spontaneous picnic was supposed to be a joke, or maybe just an excuse to hook up on the beach. Kon was really into beach sex. 
“You didn’t get me flowers?” Tim pretended to be disappointed. Kon went from zero to hundred, looking so panic stricken that Tim had to give up the joke of a real anniversary and laugh. 
Kon started laughing, too. 
“Just you wait. I’m gonna give you the most obnoxious, cheesy flowers ever.” 
Tim kept laughing, but suddenly the joke wasn’t funny. 
The problem was Kon didn’t do serious relationships. He hadn’t since Cassie. And he’d defended his casual sex lifestyle a million times, outlining the ways it was more fun, more convenient, and more practical in their line of work. 
He might’ve thought Tim was hot, but he thought a lot of people were hot. 
Tim had to ask him to be his boyfriend at just the right moment. Once he made himself an integral part of Kon’s schedule. After he’d convinced him that monogamy could be convenient, too. Once he was confident that he was the best sex of his life, and proved to him that he could be whatever he needed. And of course he’d need to do more research, figure out if Kon was seeing other people, or if Kon saw him as more than a friend who would fuck him. 
He couldn’t rush this. It was a mission that deserved his time and 100 percent effort, maybe the most important mission of his life. Maybe they could get married one day.  
Tim felt sick. They’d been fucking around for a month and he was thinking about marriage. It was so easy to delude himself, like now, watching Kon pack up the picnic he’d prepared for them. His hair, blowing in the wind, his ass in the air as he put the food back in the basket. It was so ordinary that it wrapped back around to being a scene from his wildest dreams. A paper napkin got caught in the wind and Kon flew after it. It was a tiny piece of litter, but that’s the kind of person he was. Of course he’d plan a perfect lunch like this for a friend. It was like the cookies for Bart. He went above and beyond for the people he loved. 
Tim clung to the scrap of hope that one day, Kon would love him in a different way. 
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verygalaxygarden · 3 months ago
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Classroom Connections
Chapter 1
M!Crush x NB!Reader
Warning(s): It gets a bit real.
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Your POV
Who would have thought that guys could get so clingy? 
Remember that guy who made that dumb decision to pass notes with me? Well, he’s been following me around like a lost puppy. It doesn’t help that I share a whole lot of classes with the guy. Like, what? Choir’s always been kind of a getaway for me, and now he’s a part of it too!? Seriously!?
I came to the conclusion that the best thing to do would be to ignore him, but he’s dead set on talking to me. In the words of my favorite man. What. A. Drag.
“Morning desk buddy! Beautiful morning, yeah?” What’s wrong with this guy?
“Stop calling me that.” I said annoyed.
“Well you haven’t told me your name yet.”
“You hear it in class everyday.”
“Yeah, but I wanna hear you tell me.” Weirdo.
“Leave me alone and get to class.”
“Feisty.”
“Lunatic.” He just laughed at that before parting ways with me down a different hallway. Biology happened to be the only escape from him for me. 
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Is it just me, or do girls care a bit too much about getting into relationships with the boy they like? Ever since that new guy showed up, (C/n), my best friend has been going nuts; constantly talking about how she could get him to date her if she just had a chance to talk to him. She’d been begging me to help her since the guy was always hanging around somewhere near me. Now that I think about it. If I could set them up together; he would leave me alone. That’s it! I know it’s selfish and all, but I can’t stand him, and she can’t get enough of him. It’s perfect. It’s simple; get him in contact with her, get them to spend some time together, and boom! A new sickly-sweet couple waltzing around the school being absolute sickos in love!!
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Y’know. This is a lot harder than I initially thought. I had already tried multiple times to put (C/n)’s attention on my friend, but he’s more interested in me. Not in the romantic way. Gross, but he doesn’t seem interested.
“Look, it’s sweet that you want your friend to be happy and all, but I’ve got a girl in mind already. Though, if you want to play Cupid so badly, why don’t you help me out instead?” That’s unexpected. Wait, when did his voice get so deep? And why is he so close to me!? Oh dear God, is he trying to be sexy!? I think I might puke!
“Huh?”
“So, Homecoming is approaching, and I was thinking of asking this girl out. She obviously doesn’t know me well, but I think we would be a great match if we just gave it some time.”
“Who is she?” That was a dumb question. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to help!
“That’s a secret. No one said being Cupid was easy. Figure that out yourself, Princess.”
“Call me that again, and I’ll slice your tongue out.” That’s a bit harsh, (Y/n). He surprisingly just laughed off my comment and continued on about this mystery girl. I’m gonna hate this, aren’t I?
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I had spent weeks talking with this guy. Getting hints about his little crush and giving him advice. Why I’m doing this; I have no idea. I’ve summed it down to a few dozen girls in this jailhouse of a school and let me tell you. He's not getting that dance. When I say these girls are gorgeous; I mean it. He’s so stubborn about not telling me who it is exactly. If I knew who it was, then maybe I could give him better advice. I tried paying attention to who he talked to, but that was an immediate dead end. Why is this so hard? I wonder if he’s even into girls. I could be going about this the wrong way. No, he said it was a girl. Just my luck. 
I don’t know what’s worse. Giving up or diving deeper into something this stupid. I hate quitting. Quitting is for losers. Then again, I am one. No, stop! That is literally the worst thing I could possibly think right now! Am I going emo? I hope not. Just take a deep breath. Inhale and exhale. That’s better. Oh yeah, did I ever mention that he now sits with me at lunch. Like this couldn’t get any worse.
“So? Any leads?” Is he smirking? If it weren’t for the respect I have for the principal, my mother, and myself I would have punched him right now. 
“No.” I grumble out.
“That’s too bad. Wanna give up?” 
“No.” I mutter.
“What was that?” He asks with that sly smirk still present on his face.
“What do you gain from this?” I question him.
“Amazing reactions from you.” Huh? What does he mean?
“What are you talking about?”
“You make some of the most adorable faces when you get angry, flustered, grossed out, and even when you’re just focusing on your work. If I wasn’t already interested in someone; I might have fallen in love with you just for that.”
“Weirdo.”
“I guess. I’m sorry for the amount of times I pushed you out of your comfort zone. I just used this whole game of ours to get to know you better. Y’know, you’re very interesting when people first meet you,” Really? “But then you get boring after a while.” What?
“W-What do you-”
“I had fun with you. It’s kind of what I’ve been doing for the longest. Everytime I switch schools; there’s always kids like you. Quiet, reserved, mysterious or at least they try to be. You’re not unique. You tell yourself that, but you’re not.” This guy.
“I never thought that.”
“Then why’d you play into this?” Oh God, “This whole scenario is something out of a romance novel. New kid moves into town, he likes the quiet kid but acts like he doesn’t while getting to know them better, makes that person fall in love with them, and it’s happily ever after. That’s what you thought would happen, right? You want to be in love so badly, but can’t bring yourself to give up the fantasies. Wake up, (Y/n). I don’t like you.” The hell is he going on about? I-I don’t. I never. Why is this happening?
“You act like I do!” Because I…
“If you don’t then why are you so defensive about this?” Who is this guy, and why did he change so suddenly? 
(Hey, so it’s literally midnight for me right now. I kind of rushed this, and I felt like it was too cliche. Tell me how you feel about the twist; I feel like this might be a bit too close to home, but this is what my half-conscious brain came up with. Good night, good afternoon, good evening, or good morning to you guys. Live long, proud, and stay safe. <3)
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all-the-things-2020 · 1 year ago
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No Better Place - Chapter 5
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Summary: Javi and Cassidy go for a ride.
Word count: 1700+
“Bored yet?”
Javi opened his eyes. He’d been leaning back in his lawn chair, arms crossed, but definitely not napping. “Just communing with Buster,” he said. “He gets me, don’t you, buddy?” The gelding, who had been dozing off, simply swished his tail at a particularly annoying fly and flicked an ear when he heard his name.
Cassidy laughed. “Yeah, you have so much in common,” she said. “You’re both lazy, good for nothing, free loaders.”
Javi sat up. “Hey! I’m doing this as a favor to you,” he said. “And I brought the beer last week.”
“One lousy six pack,” she scoffed.
“It was the good shit,” Javi shot back. “Not that cheap crap you buy.” In the weeks since he’d started coming over to socialize Buster, they’d fallen into a friendly banter, ending most days with a cold beer in the barn or on her back porch.
“Well, I have a mortgage to pay,” Cassidy replied. “I’m not living rent free in my dad’s house.”
Javi shook his head and flipped her the bird. She’d hit a bit too close to the bone with that last remark. Chucho had made it clear that Javi could stay as long as he liked, but he still felt like he was imposing.
“Get off your lazy ass and come for a ride with me,” Cassidy said. “I need to get some miles on Dawson before I can start advertising him for sale, but I also need to get Cricket out before she gets too fat.”
“I’m not much of a rider,” Javi protested. It was true. He knew how to ride, of course. His dad had insisted on it, but it had been years since he’d ridden more than just to get from point A to point B on the ranch, and then only if he couldn’t easily drive one of the trucks.
“I’ll put you on Cricket,” Cassidy said. “She’s my babysitter horse. I’ve put little kids on her. I think you’ll be okay.”
“Oh, I know how to ride well enough,” Javi said. “I meant I’m not used to riding for a long time.”
“Afraid you’ll hurt your ass?”
“Afraid I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” Javi admitted. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“You’re not that old,” Cassidy said. “But you are out of shape.” She reached down and poked his stomach. “Less beer and whiskey, more exercise. And stop smoking those cancer sticks.”
Javi batted her hand away. “Don’t touch me,” he grumbled.
“Just get up and help me saddle the horses,” she said. Javi took a moment to admire the view as she walked away before he levered himself up out of the chair. He followed her into the barn and into the tack room at the end.
He whistled in admiration. “Nice collection,” he said. There were close to a dozen saddles placed neatly on racks on the far wall. The wall opposite had pegs which held bridles and halters and other bits of tack.
“Yeah, I like to have options,” Cassidy said. She ran her hand over the seat of a glossy black English style saddle. “Western, jumping, dressage … I used to have a sidesaddle, too, but I got a great offer to sell it to a historical reenactor.” She pulled a plain trail saddle off one of the racks and nodded to another one a few spaces over. “Grab that and follow me.”
They worked silently, except for a few quiet instructions from Cassidy, brushing the horses off and tacking them up. Dawson was a nondescript bay gelding with no white markings at all. He fidgeted as Cassidy worked with him. Cricket, on the other hand, was a pretty little buckskin mare with a white stripe down her face and impeccable ground manners.
“I’m serious about you riding Cricket,” Cassidy said as she checked the girths on both saddles. “She’s got that nice, easy jog. Dawson’s a real bone shaker. Your backside will thank me.”
“Glad to know you think about my backside so much,” Javi said. “I’m flattered.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she replied, as she swung gracefully into the saddle on Dawson’s back.
Javi chuckled and hoisted himself onto Cricket’s back. Cassidy led the way past the riding arena and to the beginnings of a trail that led out into the brush. She sat easily in the saddle, swaying with the horse’s movements. Javi tried to relax and imitate her, but it was hard to strike the right balance between following the horse and staying in control.
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Cassidy turned in the saddle to check on Javi. “Jesus Christ, man, relax,” she laughed. “Give her a loose rein and sit back on the cantle. She won’t bolt on you. Trust her. Cricket’s a good girl.”
She was sure Javi had narrowed his eyes behind his ubiquitous aviator sunglasses. She kept hoping he’d lose them somewhere; they reminded her of that cheesy show about the California highway patrol officers from the 70’s.
“Last time I trusted a horse, he took me through a barbed wire fence and dumped me in a patch of cactus,” Javi grumbled. “I like to be in control of my horse.” He lifted his chin at her in accusation. It was true that she was sitting halfway round in her saddle, one foot out of the stirrup, with the reins looped loosely around the saddle horn.
“I’m still in control,” she retorted. “I just don’t have to rule with an iron hand.” She shifted her weight, cueing Dawson to stop, and he did. Javi pulled back on Cricket’s reins to keep her from walking into Dawson’s butt. “See!” Cassidy cried. “Right there. You hauled on her mouth. All she needs is for you to sit back in the saddle, drop your weight, open your legs a little.” She held up her hand to forestall the snide comment she knew he was dying to make. “Yeah, I heard it. But it’s true. You don’t need to be yanking on the reins. I don’t cowboy my horses, and I don’t charro my horses. Got it?” Dawson shifted nervously beneath her. She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but damn, men were such asses sometimes when it came to horses.
Javi nodded. “Okay, okay, I’ll try to be gentler,” he said. “But in my defense, my dad’s horses aren’t as well trained as this little lady.” He leaned forward to smooth down a section of Cricket’s mane that had flipped the wrong way, and Cassidy saw that he could be gentle if he wanted to be. She also wondered what it would feel like to have that hand smooth her own hair away from her neck and … she shook her head. Focus, Cass, focus!
“All right, as long as we’re on the same page,” she said. “Come on, let’s ride.” She nudged Dawson into a walk and then a trot. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told Javi he was a bone shaker. It was nearly impossible to sit his trot, so she posted as best she could. She did take a glance back and saw that Javi was bouncing around in the saddle a bit, even with Cricket’s smooth Quarter Horse jog.
She slowed to a walk when they reached a wide, open section of grassland where the well defined trail they’d been following broke into a braid of tracks. “Bring her up alongside,” she said. “I want Dawson to get used to being next to other horses, not always single file.”
Javi let Cricket stride out until they had caught up. Dawson immediately pinned his ears. “Hey, hey, none of that,” Cassidy chided him, taking a firmer grip on the reins. Cricket snorted and shook her head as if to say, Amateur.
They rode in silence for a while, no sound but the creaking of saddle leather, the jingling of bits, the thud of hooves, and the occasional snort as the horses blew dust from their noses. “This is the life,” Cassidy said eventually. She dropped the reins and leaned back to rest her hands on Dawson’s rump. “I could do this forever.”
Javi looked over at her, and she felt his eyes travel the length of her body. “I could watch it forever,” he said.
“You’re disgusting,” she said, sitting back up properly. “But you don’t look so bad yourself, when you’re not trying to be all macho and in control.” She ran her own eyes over him, his long legs hanging loosely along Cricket’s sides, his hips moving gently with her strides, his huge hands lightly holding the leather reins. Yeah, he looked damned good.
Javi shrugged. “Okay, so we agree we both look hot in the saddle,” he said. “Can we head back now before I get a callus on my ass the size of Dallas?”
Cassidy laughed. “Oh, we’re just getting started, Mr. Pena,” she said. “Giddy up!” She tapped her heels against Dawson’s sides, urging him into a canter. Cricket didn’t need any encouragement to join in; she loved to run.
“Hey!” Javi yelped as Cricket lowered her head and lit out after Cassidy. “I wasn’t ready!”
“You snooze, you lose!” Cassidy cried. “Yee haw!” She leaned forward and urged Dawson into a full on gallop. She heard Javi cursing behind her and knew that Cricket had kicked into overdrive. She was a sweet mare but had a competitive streak that would put a racehorse to shame. No one outran her. In just a few strides, she’d caught Dawson and was pulling ahead. She flicked an ear at Javi but kept going. Cassidy laughed. “That’s my girl. Show him who’s boss!”
As soon as she’d put a length or two between them, Cricket slowed her stride. Cassidy reined Dawson back into a canter, then to a trot, and finally a walk. He was blowing hard, but Cricket looked ready to go again.
“Damn, that was insane,” Javi said once the two horse were walking side by side again.
“Never underestimate a woman,” Cassidy said. “Human or equine.”
Javi smiled, something she rarely got to see. “Point taken,” he said. “Now, seriously, can we go home now? My ass is killing me.”
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a-walking-fandom-reference · 8 months ago
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I’m so happy I’m following you because sometimes in this fandom it does feel like you’re in the trenches alone regarding ace Eddie ESPECIALLY when it comes to Buddie. Im personally of the opinion that Eddie is demiaro ace and Buck is aromantic allosexual but honestly either of them benign canonically on the aroace spectrum would be absolutely amazing. We can dream. Anyway, thanks for your Eddie takes, much appreciated
!! this made my day week etc!! because this was exactly my goal when i decided to be even more annoying about aspec eddie and amatonormativity in fandom i just was sick of feeling alone in fandom and i wanted to make a space for aspecs in the 9-1-1 fandom because that’s what’s gotten me through other fandoms , having a group of people who support or understand. if we are going to be in the trenches we should at least be in the trenches together
and i agree so much when it comes to ships it’s super hard!! this past year it got super hard for me to the point where i felt so alone i couldn’t even enjoy buddie anymore but i didn’t like that so i’ve been trying to make it better for myself by not keeping all the aphobic or amatonormative things i see inside anymore but talking about them and it’s really helped.
i don’t have much hope for canon aspec rep in anything really tbh but it would be AMAZING!! but until we live in a world that i can have hope for aspec rep i have aspec hcs to keep me going.
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p-artsypants · 2 years ago
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No, You Go First (8)
Ao3 | FF.net
“Mom, Astrid. Astrid, Mom.” 
“M-Mom? You found your mom?!” Astrid stuttered. 
“Crazy, right?” Hiccup shrugged. 
“Oh honey, she’s beautiful!” Valka cooed, approaching Astrid like she was a wild animal. She delicately touched her hair. “Oh lass, I remember breastfeeding you as a babe!” 
Astrid’s face contorted in a grimace, not sure how to feel about that. 
“You’ll have to excuse her, lass. My wife has been alone among the dragons for the last fifteen years.” 
“What? What did I say?” 
Stoick spoke softly in her ear. 
“It’s perfectly natural!” Valka responded, louder. “Phlegma was ill, so I breastfed her for two weeks. Who fed Hiccup after I was taken?” 
Stoick sighed. “Phlegma.” 
“Hear that, Astrid?” Hiccup droned. “We’re bosom buddies.” 
She kicked him. “Don’t make it weird!” 
Hiccup hopped on one foot as he held his throbbing shin. “Yeah, I deserved that.” When the pain started to subside, he resumed his normal stance. “So, what made you come out here to escape?”
Astrid groaned. “I was on a…’date’ with Snotlout. If you could call it that. I swear, he is the most tone-deaf, egotistical, annoying sack of crap!” She looked ready to break something. “And you know the worst part? He has these moments, these little nuggets of decency, where he seems like he’d be a really good friend to have, and then it’s like he becomes self aware of it and switches into Snotlout the pig-faced creep!” She smacked her face and dragged her hands down her cheeks, stretching her eyelids. “It has to be his dad. If he could get away from Spitelout for a week. He might be able to become…an eighth of the man you are.” 
“Aw,” Hiccup said with a smile. 
“But enough about me! You have a mom!”
“I have a mom!”
“Mom!”
“Mom!”
“Yes, yes, dear, I’m here.” Valka wrapped her arms around him and rested her cheek on his head. “And here I was afraid that leaving you with your father would turn you into a boorish meathead.” 
“Thank you for that, darling.” Stoick said, sarcastically. 
“Hey!” Hiccup chirped. “You used sarcasm! I must be rubbing off on you!” 
“Son, I flew out and back into this cove on a dragon, you don’t think you’re influencing me?”
“I’m dying here, Hiccup,” Astrid pried. “How did this happen? I assume you two didn’t find the nest.”
“We found a nest.” Hiccup then explained how they had traveled too far north and Toothless and Stormfly heard the call of the alpha. He described the island, the caverns, and his introduction to his mother. 
“And then he goes, ‘you’re as beautiful as the day I lost you’ and, I’ll admit, I almost cried.” 
“Aww!” Astrid sang, looking at Stoick. “I didn’t know you were such a romantic!”
“Well lass, didn’t have a reason to be so before.” 
Astrid’s heart broke a little. 
“It’s alright my love, I’m back now. Even if it takes years to find peace with the dragons, I’m still here on Berk. You can see me every day.” 
Stoick raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “What I wouldn’t give to wake up with you each day.” 
“Damn, your dad is so smooth.” Astrid whispered. 
“Kinda like me, ah?”
“No.” 
Hiccup then explained what else he had learned. That the dragons all had an alpha that controlled them, and likely, there was a queen nearby that was causing the raids. Things took a serious turn then, as they discussed what this meant. 
“How are we supposed to stop a dragon the size of a mountain?” Astrid asked. 
“Well…train it?” Hiccup suggested. 
Valka scoffed. “Train an alpha? No, darling.”
“But you were so friendly with the Bewilderbeast–”
“Because he was friendly to me first. That alpha is benevolent in nature, and isn’t threatened by anything. Certainly not little ole me. But also, and more importantly, he only eats fish. If he had an appetite for red meat, I wouldn’t be here.” 
“So, you think Berk’s queen likes red meat?” Astrid clarified. 
“That’s my working theory, based on what I’ve seen.” Valka’s mouth pulled into a frown. “I’d like to be more helpful, but the behavior of the alpha up north is so different from what I remember of Berk’s raids. Dragons, no matter how kind and intelligent, are still animals. They will be motivated by food. However, these raids may be for control, or something else. We won’t know until we observe.” 
“We can’t observe it until we find it,” Hiccup added.
Stoick hummed. “My love, didn’t you say the alpha up north has a call and all the dragons in a certain distance come to worship it?” 
“Yes!” Valka chirped. “If we get close enough to the queen, our dragons should be able to find it!”
“True,” Stoick amended. “But what is stopping our dragons from doing whatever that dragon wants? It’s making all these others raid us. Why wouldn’t it work on these three?” He gestured to Toothless, Stormfly, and Cloudjumper. 
Hiccup and Valka exchanged a look, both hoping the other had the answer. Neither did. 
“I suppose, I will go make some more observations with the north alpha,” suggested Valka. 
“But–” Stoick took her hand.
“In a few days,” she clarified. “I’ll stay here a bit longer. And then I’ll go back. Just for a little while. Now that I’m with you, it’s going to be hard to stay away.” 
Hiccup glanced at Astrid, who had her face turned toward the ground, a sour frown on her lips. 
“Yeah,” he whispered bitterly. “Hard to stay away.” 
—-
Hiccup was hard at work. Despite what Stoick had said about not having to work hard on Astrid and Snotlout’s house, Hiccup spent much of his day there. It got him out of normal work in the forge, which would have been making weapons for raids. 
The shell of the house had been completed. Soon, he and the other men would get to work building furniture. Though Hiccup had already built the bed. It had kind of been his own personal joke to see just how big he could make it. He stopped when it could comfortably fit a Monstrous Nightmare. 
But now, he was working on the shingles. Each one had been cut with a curve, so they looked like dragon scales. Once upon a time, the houses had been decorated to represent dragons, in an effort to protect them from destruction. It hadn’t worked, but the designs had remained. Astrid and Snotlout’s house would have a gable decoration carved to represent a nadder, though he hadn’t finished it yet. 
It was a warm spring day. The sky was blue with big billowing clouds. The wolfsbane and saxifrage were in full bloom. Children played in the streets, and men and women alike bustled about. 
Hiccup tried not to think about all of it, and instead, just work while his mind ruminated on the dragon problem. 
Perhaps giant earmuffs would work? How else would he get Toothless to block out the alpha’s call? 
He hadn’t heard from his mother in a week. She was still gone up north, on her newest journey. And all he could do was hope she found something. 
“Hey!” 
Hiccup stopped his hammer for a moment to look down to the ground. Snotlout stood there, looking awkward as ever. 
“Hey,” he offered back. 
“Need help?”
Hiccup blinked a few times in surprise. “Uh, sure, if you want. There’s another hammer down in that bucket.” He pointed.
Snotlout climbed the ladder to the roof and got to work, building his own house. 
It’s about time, Hiccup thought, bitterly. 
They worked silently for a little while, while Snotlout sighed. He sighed again. And then louder and more exaggerated. 
“Can I help you?” Hiccup bit. 
“Well…” Snotlout mused. “I was just thinking…you and Astrid are close, right?”
“I’d say so.”
“Well, since she and I are getting married, I figured, I should probably…you know…get along with her?”
“Things aren’t going so well, huh?” Hiccup held back a smirk. 
“It’s weird. She’ll come and find me, and she’s pleasant enough, and then she’ll get this look on her face like she got a whiff of yak dung, then she storms off. I don’t know what to do about it. I chalked it up to girls being weird, but I figured I’d at least ask someone who figured her weirdness out.” 
Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Well, there’s your first problem. Astrid isn’t weird. She’s very level-headed. She just doesn’t like people who boast. So if you want her to stick around you, try being humble.” 
“Hum-ball? What’s that?” 
“Gods above…okay, you know that thing you do when you talk about how awesome you are?”
“My favorite thing.”
“Don’t do that.” 
Snotlout scoffed. “Then how will she see how awesome I am?”
“She has eyes and ears. She can notice for herself.”
“Astrid’s eyes and ears obviously don’t work if she’s hanging out with you.” 
Hiccup rolled his eyes and felt the weight of the hammer in his hand a little too keenly. One expertly placed thwack would make Snotlout shut up. Yes… “Look, you asked me for advice, and I’m giving it to you. You don’t want to get along with your wife? Fine.” 
Snotlout ‘hmph’ed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t even want to get married. This is all my stupid dad’s fault.”
Hiccup set his hammer down, now intrigued. “You didn’t want to get married?”
“I mean, one day! And yeah, I figured it would be Astrid, because she’s the hottest and the best warrior…but then you guys had to get all buddy-buddy and made my dad panic.” He pouted. “If anything, it’s your fault!” 
“My–! Snotlout, I didn’t have any friends until Astrid came along! I still don’t really have friends! You, Fishlegs, and the Twins are acquaintances at best!” He crossed his own arms. “The Hoffersons are the ones that suggested Astrid be nice to me.” 
“Oh, so are you saying it’s their fault?”
“Your dad is the one that made the bet, so it’s all on him!” 
“Yeah, but Astrid lost the fight!” 
Hiccup wiped his hands down his face. “I get it now, Astrid.” He muttered to himself. 
“What was that?” 
“Here’s another tip. Astrid is always right. Even when she’s wrong, she’s right.” 
“That’s dumb advice.”
“Once you get close to her and better understand her, she’ll concede to being wrong on occasion. But right now, you have to treat her like everything she says is correct.”
“But–”
“Just, trust me.”
“I wouldn’t trust you with a plate of food.”
“You want me to booby trap your house?” 
Snotlout frowned, and then giggled. “You said booby.” 
“How am I related to you…?” Hiccup shook his head, and then got back to work shingling. “Love takes time and effort. If you really want her to like you, then you need to try.” 
“I am trying!”
“I don’t mean you need to tell her all the reasons that she should like you. I mean, you should attempt to love her.”
“I like her plenty!” 
“Even if she wasn’t beautiful? Even if she can't fight anymore?”  
Snotlout was quiet then, the rug pulled out underneath him. 
“What else do you like about Astrid?” Hiccup tried. 
Snotlout didn’t answer. 
“Try to find an answer to that question, and perhaps that will help.” 
Snotlout turned it around on him. “Okay, well, what do you like about Astrid?” 
“Me? Why does that matter?”
“I need a hint, Hiccup! Give me something to look for in her! Throw me a bone!” 
“Okay okay!” Hiccup gnawed on his lip, trying to find an answer that wouldn’t get him punched. “Astrid is very confident. She takes what she wants and doesn’t apologize for it, but that doesn’t mean she does it without thinking. In fact, she does what she thinks will help the people around her the best. She’s determined and passionate. She’s hardworking, and doesn’t back down from a challenge. She’s…very smart and clever. She’s kind, and can be very gentle.” 
“Oh I’m going to barf.” 
Hiccup frowned. “Just answering your question.” 
“Is she a good kisser?”
Hiccup’s face went bright red. “W-w-what makes you think I would know a thing like that?”
Snotlout gave him the most knowing smirk he’d ever seen. “Oh come on, Hiccup.” 
“No really! We’re just good friends!” 
Snotlout chuckled. “Unless you don’t know about that...” 
“Know about what?”
“That you were walking around with a hickey on your neck after that blizzard last winter. It’s all anyone could talk about for a week!” 
“What?!” He clapped a hand over his neck, where Astrid had sucked on his throat. “I NEVER! I WOULDN’T–YOU’RE CRAZY!” 
“Wow, I forgot how terrible of a liar you are. So spit it out. Is she a good kisser? How far did you guys get? Give me all the juicy details!” 
Hiccup scrunched his nose up. “You’re worse than the ladies that gossip at the well.” 
“Mom makes me fetch the water. SPILL!” 
Now this was a place of power Hiccup had never been in before. He had dirt that Snotlout wanted. Dare he dangle it like a carrot? Barter? 
“She’s a terrible kisser,” he finally said.
“And that’s how you got a hickey?” Snotlout drawled. 
“Look at me, Snotlout. You think I could have thrown her off? We had gotten cold in the blizzard, and were cold. I suggested huddling for warmth, and she…took what she wanted, and didn’t apologize.” 
“Damn.”
“Yeah. She bites. Hard. And she has sharp nails. And she’s really into hearing sounds of pain, so she ground her knee into my groin.” 
Snotlout grew paler and paler with every word. 
“There was also talk about her getting rope and a whip, but I talked her out of that.” 
“Okay okay, I get it. Astrid is…a fighter through and through.” 
Hiccup shrugged. “I guess all I can do now is wish you luck. You’ll need it.” 
“Right.” Snotlout gave a defeated sigh. “Oh, almost forgot.” He tossed a bag of gold coins to Hiccup. 
“What’s this for?”
“Her wedding ring. Dad said you’d know how to make one.” 
“Oh…yep. S-sure do…” 
“Cool. Thanks!” And he started back down the ladder. 
“That’s it? You’re not going to keep helping?!”
“You’re doing great, Cuz. I wouldn’t want to get in the way. Ciao!” 
Hiccup yeeted the hammer into the distance.
—-
Later that week, when he had finally built up the nerve, Hiccup went over to the Hofferson house and knocked. 
“Well hello Hiccup,” Phlegma said, with a slightly sad smile on her face. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but Hiccup was astute. 
“Hello Mrs. Hofferson. Is Astrid available?” 
“Yes!” She practically shouted. She hurried over, and Hiccup was startled by her appearance. She wasn’t wearing any armor, but a cream colored dress with a blue apron over it. The neckline of the dress gave him a funny feeling in the stomach. “Please tell me you have a huge errand you need my help with.”
“Astrid,” Phlegma reprimanded. “You’ve got to stop procrastinating on your dress!” She gestured to the pile of dainty blue fabric on the table. 
“I’ve pricked my finger so many times that once more, I’ll start a fountain and ruin the dress!” 
Phlegma scoffed. “Fine fine, just don’t stay out too late.” 
“Thanks!” And she left with him. “So, what’s up? I hope I’m not actually in the way of whatever you’re doing.”
“You won’t be in the way,” he assured, as he started walking towards the forge. “I just need to get your measurement for…your ring.” 
“Oh.” She deflated. “They’ve got you doing that now?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, if you make it, it’ll be all the more special.” 
“I can’t promise it’ll be fancy. I can do fine detail work, but it’s been for other things, not jewelry.”
“You know I’m not a fancy girl. Whatever you come up with, I’m sure it’ll be great.”  
“Well, that makes me all fuzzy inside. Thank you, Astrid.” He smirked. “Now, while I appreciate the total freedom, I would like some direction. What metal do you want? Gold or silver?”
“Just those options? I want something strong, but not crazy expensive on my finger that I’d feel guilty about.” 
He chuckled. “I had a feeling you were going to say that. I think I’ll experiment.” 
“Careful with that word around me, Haddock.” 
Hiccup sputtered. “I didn’t mean–!”
Astrid patted his back. “I’m just messing with you!” Gods, it was so nice to be around him again. He was so much nicer to talk to than Snotlout. Of course, she knew that, but knowing and experiencing were two different things. 
When they arrived at the forge, Gobber was putting things away, though the fires were still up. “There ya are, boy. Here to work on the ring?”
“Yep. Or at least try.”
“You know you just needed a bit of string, right? You didn’t need to bring Astrid here.”
Astrid groaned. “Oh but Gobber, you don’t understand! I’m dying at home! I just needed to get away from my mother!”
“You will in a few months, lass. I thought you’d be eager to stay with her.”
“I’m eager to pretend I didn’t hear that.” 
“I get it. I know when I’m not wanted!” He dramatically put his hand to his head. Then he gave Hiccup a poke in the chest. “Be good.” 
“As if I would do anything!” 
Gobber cackled as he meandered away. 
Gobber’s comment infused the air with a bit of awkwards as the two teens stood next to each other. “You…needed my measurements?” Astrid prompted.
“Oh…right. Go ahead and take a seat.” 
Astrid hopped up on a counter, as she always did when she visited the forge. Hiccup left and returned quickly with a ball of twine and a piece of charcoal. 
“It’s really very simple. I just have to wrap this around your finger, and mark it where it overlaps. Then you’re free to relax.” 
“Sounds simple enough.” She held up her left hand.
He took hold of her fingers. “Astrid! Your hands are freezing!” 
“My hands are always cold.” She shrugged. 
“Well, they have to be warm for me to measure, or it will be off.” He wrapped both of his hands around hers, and breathed on her hand. 
“Uh huh, sure.” 
“I’m serious! Your fingers shrink when you’re cold. Something about blood flow.” 
“Huh. I did not know that.” So she allowed him to hold her hand, pretending that she wasn’t enjoying his touch as much as she was. 
Then, when he deemed her hands warm enough, he wrapped the string around her finger. “Is this tight or loose enough?” 
“I think you’re pulling on it.” 
He relaxed the line a little. 
“That feels right.” 
“Good…good…” he marked the twine and let go of her hand. “And there we go!” He looked up to smile at her, noticing that he was too close. Her face was right there, her eyes drinking him in, that magnetic connection taking hold. He grew closer, his eyelids growing heavy. 
If he wasn’t imagining it, her eyes were on his lips, and she was leaning in. 
She was too beautiful. Her hair was braided perfectly, and the forge illuminated with a haunting orange glow. Without her pauldrons, her slim and feminine shoulders were all on display. As she leaned forward, her neckline dipped, exposing her perfect collarbone and the tantalizing swell of her breasts. 
Someone had to sacrifice. Someone had to stop this before it turned into something that would only bring them pain. More than it already was. 
Hiccup reached his hand up and pressed his thumb to her lips. “I…” 
“Thank you.” Astrid mumbled against his thumb, before pressing a little kiss to it and pulling away. “You always were the more level-headed one.”
“Astrid,” he swallowed, moisture collecting in his eyes. “I don’t want you to marry Snotlout.” 
“Surprisingly, I don’t want to marry him either.” She smirked. 
“I just wanted to say it, in case…” 
“In case I thought you were okay with it? No, Hiccup. I didn’t think you were.” 
“If you need anything–”
“You’re my number one man.” She confirmed with a nod. “Spitelout said hanging out with you wasn’t proper, but Snotlout said he didn’t care.”
Hiccup sighed then. If Snotlout was allowing their friendship, then perhaps things would be okay. “That’s good.” Now all he had to do was get over this crush he had on her.
Who was he kidding? Crush? No. He was undeniably in love with her, and would continue to be for years. 
Hiccup finally pulled away from her and went to the workbench. 
“You sure I can stay here? I won’t be a distraction?”
“You’re always welcome here, Astrid.” He said earnestly. She would be a distraction, but one he didn’t mind. 
—-
After 24 hours of work, Hiccup finished Astrid’s ring. It was one of his best works, and he was hesitant to give it to Snotlout early. So he kept it in his backroom, in the box, on his desk. Sort of as a reminder that he had to get over her. 
But it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so. Especially when she was becoming more and more beautiful everyday. The lack of axe and armor did nothing to soften her edge. She appeared as brutal as always, but when they would end up alone together, she would relax, and almost appear delicate. Where everything else on this island threatened to hurt him if he wasn’t careful, Astrid always made herself a safe place. 
He couldn’t indulge. But he was ever so grateful for her consideration. 
It was mid-afternoon. Valka was back and Hiccup and Stoick had taken respective breaks from work to go eat lunch with her in the woods. 
“Oh, Ingerman’s chicken soup! I haven’t had that in years!” Valka gushed, as she recognized the dish from just the smell. 
“Did you eat anything that wasn’t regurgitated fish?” Hiccup asked, with a chuckle.
“Of course! There was fresh fish, and regurgitated chicken! And lots of wild fruit.” 
“Okay okay, not while we’re eating.” Stoick reprimanded. “Or I’ll regurgitate this soup.” 
Hiccup elected to change the subject. “So…any new thoughts on the alpha?”
“I am afraid not, my love.” Valka sighed. “I spent much time observing my alpha, but he never sent any commands. The other dragons seem to come and go as they please. What's more, I haven’t seen another Nightfury. Not in all the years I spent there. Deadly Nadders and Storm Cutters, yes, but no Nightfuries. I don’t know how they react to alphas.”
“We’ve been catching eels again,” said Hiccup. “They’ve been working well since Spring. That should give us some time.” 
“Hiccup…” Stoick began to reprimand.
“Dad, I know what you’re going to say. But this is all I have right now! We have to find a way to stop that Alpha, wherever it is, or else the raids will just keep happening.” He stirred his soup around in thought. “Maybe Toothless and I should go out looking for this thing. If the northern alpha is peaceful, we might never get the information we need from it.”
“Absolutely not! I’m not letting you get anywhere near that nest by yourself, let alone without a solid plan. No, we will take another fleet by ship.” 
“That’s a worse idea!” Valka and Hiccup said at the same time. 
“Is…this a bad time?” Astrid piped up from the entrance of the cove. 
Stoick relaxed. “No lass, come and join us.” 
Hiccup scooted over to make room for her on the log he was sitting on. She had brought her own lunch to eat with them, as well as some chicken for Stormfly. “Here girl,” she tossed the leg to her dragon. 
Stormfly swallowed it with a gulp and sang a happy song.
“And this is for you, Mrs. Haddock,” she handed her a triangle wrapped in wax paper. 
“Mrs. Haddock, that’s a name I haven’t heard in forever!” She laughed as she took the gift and unwrapped it. “Oh dear, is this your mother’s kringle cake?”
“Yep! She off handly mentioned that you used to love it. So I stole a slice for you.” 
Valka tore into it messily, the way she ate most days. “Better than I remember!” She sang. 
“That was very kind of you, lass.” Stoick smiled at her with a gleam in his eye. 
“It was no trouble! Actually…I came asking for a favor.” 
“Whatever you need,” Hiccup assured. 
“So, I’ve been eating dinner with the Jorgenson’s a lot. Spitelout can be…a bit daunting.” 
“What did he do?” Valka asked lowly. 
“Well, nothing too bad. He’s just been going on and on about how our wedding is going to be the event of the year and that everything is going to be perfect…” She frowned. “He gave me this look a few times that seemed to indicate if I messed anything up, I’d regret it. So I was hoping you could lead me through the ceremony a few times until I have it down?” She looked at Hiccup.
“Me? Why me?” 
“Son…you’re the one officiating, remember?” Stoick reminded.
“Oh! Oh no! I totally forgot!” He stood quickly, startling Toothless, who laid at his feet. “Dad! I haven’t practiced or prepared at all! The wedding is in a month! Spitelout is going to kill me!” 
Valka chuckled to herself.
“Now son, don’t panic. You have a month.” Stoick sighed. “I don’t blame you for getting distracted. Your uncle has had you doing almost everything for this wedding.” Then he muttered something that sounded like, “the asshole,” under his breath. “Why don’t you and Astrid go up to Gothi’s and rehearse up there?”
Hiccup was about to ask why his father couldn’t just teach them, but figured he was fishing for an excuse to spend some alone time with his wife. 
“She taught me, afterall.” 
“Okay. Yeah, that’s a great idea, dad.”
“Don’t forget to have Gobber or Fishlegs go with you to interpret her writing. I heard Fishlegs has a real knack for it.” 
“Then while he’s there, he can teach me too.” Hiccup chuckled. “Can you get away for a little while?” He asked Astrid.
“Oh please, you know I’m always looking for an excuse to get out of housework. Besides, it’s wedding practice. Mom can’t argue with it.” 
“Then let’s go find Fishlegs.”
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burnwater13 · 1 year ago
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Concept Art by Christian Alzmann
Part 2, Places People!
When we left Grogu and Din Djarin, sitting at the table in their little cabin on Nevarro, discussing the production being developed by the Nevarro Guild of Entertainments and Educational Programs to Promote the Culture and Achievements of Nevarro, Thanks to High Magistrate Greef Karga. Grogu had just revealed the true name of the Razor Crest...
 
“Revenge? That’s not the ship’s name. It didn’t even have a name that I recall.” Greef Karga grumbled.
“It was an ST-70, Razor Crest, Model M-111. It was originally called The Jedi’s Revenge. I don’t know who named it that. I certainly didn’t.” Grogu’s dad explained in his quiet, steady voice.
“You’re kidding!” Greef Karga exclaimed. “I’ve known you for years and you never told me that.”
“Didn’t seem important.” 
The Mandalorian shrugged and Grogu knew that he needed to help get the interview back on track.
He ran over to the lady and showed her the small silver sphere he carried with him everywhere. At least he tried to. She was just staring at his dad and seemed a little lost. He coo’d loudly to get her attention.
That broke the spell and she looked at Grogu, frowning for an instant and then smiling brightly.
“Oh, look! That’s so cute! What have we here? May I hold it?” Her voice was very sweet and super enthusiastic. 
Grogu handed her the flight control knob from the old Razor Crest. 
“Is that made of beskar?” The man from The Guild asked when the lady handed it to him, although that was not exactly what Grogu had intended. He was kind of hoping that his dad would take it from her. He wanted to see what she would do if the Mandalorian actually touched her hand. Dang.
“No. Durasteel. It’s the ship’s flight control knob. It’s the only thing left from The Jedi’s Revenge. Grogu plays catch with it.” Din Djarin explained as he signaled Grogu to come over to him. 
Grogu could sense that his dad would prefer that he stop helping to the two Guild members with the interview. He must have realized that he was talking more than he had the whole week before Greef Karga approached him about the production.
He trudged over to his dad and then hopped into Din Djarin’s lap, where he could barely see the two Guild members. He sighed.
“Buddy, we’re just here to provide technical support. Yes, the Razor Crest had two forward mounted Mk 3e/W heavy laser canons. They made short work of the Tie fighters and Greef and Cara were safe. Are we done here? I’ve got some maintenance to perform on the N-1.” 
Grogu grumbled at his dad. 
“Buddy, they don’t want to hear about you getting sick because you ate too many sweets.” 
His dad took the silver ball back from the man and handed it to Grogu, no doubt to encourage him to stop interrupting. 
“Oh, no, we’d love to know about that. Those details are what will make this whole production seem real. Does your son have a sweet tooth?” The Guild lady asked. 
Grogu giggled at her question. Those cookies really weren’t sweet at all, but his dad didn’t know the proper names of foods like that. Apparently, Mandalorians didn’t eat a lot of sweets, so cakes, candy, confections, custards, pastries, pies, and frozen treats and their cousins were all unknown to his dad. As Grogu had travelled with the Mandalorian, his dad had simply referred to all of them as ‘sweets’, even the savory ones like gorg pops. It had been a frustration for Grogu because he had some real preferences and his dad often got it all wrong.
“The kid has a whole mouthful of sweet teeth based on his eating habits when he visits my official office.” 
Greef Karga was annoyed again. Grogu wished he had a cookie he could offer the High Magistrate. It wasn’t Grogu's fault that the female human liked talking to the two Mandalorians more than him. They just had magnetic personalities, although Grogu could verify that magnets didn’t stick to beskar, which was very disappointing.
“That would make two of you.” Din Djarin commented blandly. “If you didn’t have all that stuff out on your desk, Grogu wouldn’t eat it. Apparently one of the children at the school offered him a container of blue sweet discs and when we were doing loop-d-loops to avoid the Tie fighters, his stomach got a bit upset and he ejected the contents onto his coverall. It took some effort to get the stains out.”
“So that was the maintenance you were doing?!” Greef Karga was outraged. 
Grogu would have laughed, but he knew that he shouldn’t. It wouldn’t make the High Magistrate happy and he still wanted access to the desk drawer in his office that held the various bags of sweets and candies. 
“Yes. You know Mandalorians stick together. And I never did find out why the children at the school were eating sweets for all of their meals.”
Grogu giggled at that. His dad was a great bounty hunter, but he didn’t always understood that sometimes the story was better than the reality and Grogu liked a good story.
“Eating sweets for their meals? I’ll have to have the instruction droid’s programming checked. That should not be happening. Good. You should have enough details for the script now, correct?”
Greef Karga asked the question in a manner that Grogu understood to be a command. The High Magistrate was getting better at giving orders that didn’t always sound like orders.
“Yes. We do. Come along Agira. If we need additional details, can we call upon you again?” The male Guild member asked. 
“Sure, if we’re around. Grogu and I have a trip to Takodana coming up and I’m not sure when we’ll be back.” Din Djarin replied.
“Thanks Mando. We’ll be seeing you when the production is ready for its first showing.” Greef Karga finally smiled at Grogu’s dad. 
When the three visitors left their cabin, Grogu complained at his dad about the imaginary trip to Takodana. 
“You tell the stories you like and I tell the stories I like. Are you hungry?” 
Grogu coo’d and chirped at his dad.
“Blue cookies? As you wish. But, in the right light I can still see that stain. Better eat them slower this time. Okay, buddy?”
As you wish.
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ricflairdrip20 · 1 year ago
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To Say Goodbye is the Hardest Thing (Tommy x Reader)
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Your right hand trembles as you struggle to even drag your pen across the white sheet of paper. You felt your heart breaking little by little with each passing minute, to the point you felt like you’d have no heart left because of how broken it is, if that’s even possible. Ever since Tommy died, a huge part of you died along with him.
“I…” you began ever so silently, then gulped away the rising lump in your throat. “I can’t do it.”
Ali placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her warm but sad eyes watching you struggle to articulate your feelings of losing the love of your life.
You were preparing to write an eulogy about your now late husband Tommy for his funeral that’s coming up in a week. You couldn’t bear to be in the house any longer, as his absence lingers heavily in the premise. So instead, upon asking Ali to spend some time at her house, she is more than happy to provide a space for you to grieve without feeling the heavy void in your shared home.
“You can do it,” she replied softly. You gripped your pen tighter as you questioned life, questioning why this happened. You were hoping to live at least a few more years together with him. Apparently his health had other plans.
He has been battling terminal cancer for the past few months and wasn’t expected to live much longer. Despite being heartbroken that you lost your husband, you took solace in knowing he got to spend his final moments with his Cobra Kai buddies, riding on motorcycles, drinking and fighting some group of guys, and going camping just like they did in high school. Sounds a lot better than dying in a stinking, over-sanitized environment with annoying beepings and doctors giving you medicine that makes you sick. At least he had fun during his last day.
The last conversation you had with him was reminiscing your years together with him; dating him shortly after the tournament, prom night, getting married, going on trips and spending the rest of your lives loving each other like there’s no tomorrow. Because you love your precious boy so much. The thought of having to bury your other half made your heart crunch and you just wanted to shrivel up and cry. But you must focus on keeping yourself together, just for a time being to honor him the way he deserves.
The last time you saw him alive was when he was leaving with his fellow Cobras, minus Dutch since he is serving time for some crimes he committed.
Dutch… your heart hurts knowing that he wasn’t able to see his buddy for the last time. You don’t remember the last time you saw him, all you know that it was years ago before he got arrested. Maybe the prison will let him out to say his last goodbye.
You took a deep breath as you inched your pen closer to the paper.
“I… I don’t know where to start…” you mumbled. Tommy means so much to you that you don’t even know where to begin!
“Just write what your heart feels. Think of it like an essay you’re writing in school and then later, you can finalize your draft to make it a little better.” You nodded, then you got to writing, generating the roughest draft you’ve written.
“My beloved Tommy… it hurts so much, so bad… You’re my everything… I’ve loved you since the day we met… my favorite memory are pretty much anytime I’m with you…” You were barely comprehending what you’ve written, just descriptions of your grief as you go.
Your words are all over the place, your grief ridden words covering the paper in less than 15 minutes and you didn’t realize until you pulled back, looked at the paper and saw that it was stained with teardrops.
You didn’t realize you were crying until Ali got up to grab a tissue box before sitting back down. You grabbed a couple and wiped your tear drenched face. Just writing a draft took a lot of energy.
“Do you want something to drink?” She asked.
Nodding, you replied, “Water, please.”
“Sure,” she said softly as she got up to grab a water bottle from the fridge and handed it to you. You accepted it, then stared at it as you processed the whole thing. Wondering how it comes to this, how you went from a teenager gushing to her friend about a cute boy you’ve been talking with to having to write an eulogy and having to bury him.
“Is everything okay?” You were snapped out of your trance to see your friend looking at you with concern.
You nodded again. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed to lie down…”
Ali was quick to get up and assist you to her couch. She took the maroon throw blanket sitting on the arm rest and covered you as if tucking her child to bed. You’re so grateful for having such a great friend like Ali.
She’s been with you every step of the way ever since you lost Tommy. She helped you prepare the memorial service and put together photos on your laptop which you know damn well that you won’t be able to do by yourself. She even cooked breakfast, lunch and dinner for you. During a time where all you felt like doing is breaking down and never bothering with anything else. But it’s friends like her that made life a little more bearable during your time of sorrow.
During the funeral, despite using all your strength and putting in a lot of effort and emotions to write an eulogy for your Tommy, you saw that you could not bring yourself to speak. Thankfully Ali offered to be with you on the podium so you don’t feel alone.
You glanced at everyone in the room. The old Cobras, some new, your family and friends from high school and a kind co-worker of yours attending the service.
You looked back down on your paper and opened your mouth but no word came out. You were too upset to speak.
“Do you want me to read for you?” Ali whispered, to which you nodded.
Ali cleared her throat before starting. “I will be reading it on behalf of Y/N. To Tommy, my husband, my best friend, my precious boy, my everything… Thomas Robert Garrison…”
As she continues to speak for you, you feel your emotions building up as you remember all the times you spent with Tommy. Riding with him across town on his motorcycle, holding hands everywhere you go, going to the arcade, and simply just talking and laughing just about anything.
You were so distracted by the memories that you didn’t realize she was done with your five-page long speech until she escorted you to your seat.
You were overwhelmed with so many hugs, condolences and shared memories they had with him, yet you didn’t really process it. Everything about today was a blur. You feel so empty.
You went to go find Johnny and hugged him tightly, him returning the sentiment.
“Thank you,” you said ever so quietly, your voice breaking. “For making his last moment meaningful.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied softly. You pulled back and wiped your tears away. You had been crying so much that it made your eyes hurt and swollen. Your face became a little puffy from the constant emotion that consumed you for the past week and a half.
Upon approaching the door to leave after the service concluded, you looked back at the closed coffin and you felt like you died again. This is the start of your life as a widow now, as much as you hate to think about it.
“I’ll see you again, baby,” you whispered before turning around to leave, with Ali waiting beside you.
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