#literally everyone is struggling lol.....do something else
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Actually, I think this does link in with a wider conversation that I have been thinking for a while Tumblr maybe needs to hear.
There's a common meme on this site now that no one here has any reading comprehension skills. The best one is, of course, the original "No offense but reading comprehension on this site is piss poor/How dare you say we piss on the poor" post, which gave rise to the nickname "pissing-on-the-poor website". There's also the "I like pancakes/How dare you say waffles are terrible" one. Both of these are great, because they're silly jokey ways to show two closely related phenomena that are probably the commonest ways to fail a reading comprehension check.
The first is someone reading certain catchphrases or buzzwords in the post, and based on their own biases or prior experiences or whatever else, their brain simply fills in what it reckons the poster is saying on the topic. Instead of reading the rest of the sentence and digesting it, the reader then just uses their assumption as the interpretation, and reacts to that.
The second is closely related, because it also uses biases and prior experiences to to interpret the post, but rather than ignoring what the OP is actually saying, it instead performs a series of gymnastic leaps to construct a whole new assertion on the OP's behalf that simply isn't there.
There's also a third, of course; that one is people being so eager to feel smug and superior over someone they perceive as Bad that they wilfully assume the OP is stupid or being serious when they're actually joking. And if the reader hadn't been so blinded by their desire to get to look down on someone, they'd have seen the very obvious tells, sometimes even including sentences like "Obviously this is a joke." (I think we have all seen examples of these. Also, in a bid to avoid as many reading comprehension fails here as possible, this does not include misunderstandings borne entirely of neurodiverse struggles to parse intentions; but, neurodiverse people are just as likely as neurotypicals to have ego play a part in their misinterpretation of others, and that is what this point is about.)
And the thing is... actually, we are all capable of any of these. I imagine a sizable chunk of people reading until this point were probably thinking "Lol, yeah, people are so stupid," but na, nage, I'm not having that. Literally everyone does these sometimes. And it becomes a particular risk when the topic under discussion is something that might brush against an issue that is a pressure point for you, like a social justice talking point that you are forever having to argue with internet strangers about, for example. Your brain holds schemas! And sometimes it likes to pattern match things before it deigns to tell you about its findings! And that can hit you right in the emotions, which if they are strong enough, really can shut down all rational thought.
But. This brings me to the real point of the post.
Because the thing is, we have all saddled up and gone to war under these conditions, or at the very least been strongly tempted to. And a vital skill that literally everyone has to learn, sooner or later, is:
Before you hit 'reply', double check the post to make sure you fucking understood it.
And that does not mean "simply re-read, confirm your bias, carry on." It means, "Is it possible to read this post from the point of view of someone who doesn't intend it the way I've taken it? If I put myself in the shoes of an innocent, could they still have written these words? Is there another interpretation for these phrases?"
And you do have to do this step. You simply do have to. Because if your desire is to 'clap back' and call someone a gargling knobskin made of garbage, fuck me sideways but you must see that it is imperative that you check if they actually deserve that kind of treatment first. You cannot spend your time claiming that we must all choose to be kind and then not bother doing your due diligence before screaming a person's various and assorted bigotries at them. If you misread it, and they were innocent - you are the raging aggressive cunt in this situation.
It does not matter that you reacted from an emotional place of normally having to defend yourself either, by the way. Sure, that makes the quality of your human soul better than that of the average Redditor who just enjoys anonymously hurting people, I guess? But it's also irrelevant. If you messaged someone and called them a misogynist because you performed several mental somersaults and landed on your own sore spot when they meant no such thing, you are the attacker. You owe them an apology. And yeah, sure, you can explain your over-reaction as the product of your normal experiences if you like, but that is only an explanation, not an excuse. You are still the asshole here. You still need to apologise and mean it.
And you could have avoided it if you'd done that due diligence, as you should have. If you're going to take a swing, make sure it's the right target. This was once described to me as donkey people - they don't think, they just kick. This is admittedly a little unkind to donkeys, who always do their due diligence, but I feel it's an apt metaphor.
TL;DR: If you feel moved to angrily reply to something, first make sure you've interpreted it right. Don't be a donkey person. And if you ask for clarification, people are innocent until proven guilty. Ask nicely. If they are a bigot, you can then smelt them for parts.
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chrliekclly · 5 months ago
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How did you get your job on sunny? I really wanna go into the entertainment industry.
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iv told th story b4 but i got onto th show bcuz i just happened to b n th right place @ th right time
was working on smthn completely different nd drunk on th camera truck during one of our wrap days me, the DIT, nd the loader wer talking abt fave tv shows nd when i said tht always sunny was mine th loaders just like "oh lol funny im the 1st AC on that. i can get u some days if u want" ???
so i...did some days...then i did a season...and now im core crew i guess
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starreo · 6 months ago
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pro hero! katsuki bakugo drabble .
y'er so much trouble, aren'cha. includes blowjob, very vague? writing, fem! reader, slight perv! kirishima mention lol and adult themes, so mdni!!
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you try not to, you really do. but sucking on katsuki's throbbing cock in the elevator of his agency is just so much fun. on the outside, you're just his secretary, sweet girl who god knows how, tolerates all those late night and early morning calls. your colleagues feel so much pity for you, ever since kirishima saw you sneaking out of leaving bakugo's house just in time for their early morning run, he came back to the office, loudly lecturing bakugo on how he can't overwork you like that.
so it makes it so much fun, to slide into the elevator, right after katsuki's blown his head off at some silly intern, fumes practically coming out of his ears as he repeatedly presses the button for the third floor. everyone stares at you in awe as you run right into the elevator. only you could face bakugo right now.
literally.
as he's about to scoff and grumble something stupid about how he's not in the mood to play around with you when the door finally closes and you smash him against the wall. normally katsuki bakugo wouldn't move an inch, but for you.
for you, baby, anything.
one hand of his is gripping your hair and fisting it into a ponytail as your head slowly moves closer to the base of his cock and then back to the tip, while his other hand struggles to find the emergency stop button of the elevator. "fuck fuck fuck- y/n, f-fuck, " he's throbbing in your mouth already, you can feel it deep in your throat as you hollow your cheeks against his girth, looking up at him with those fucked out eyes that he likes so much. he finally finds the button and smashes it right before it opens up on the third floor. and you can hear people outside groaning about how this is the fourth time this month.
as you're quickening your pace, hands wrapping around the excess of his length to help him finish, you can see him poke his tongue in his cheek, eyes shut as he tries so hard not to moan your name when you swallow all his orgasm. when he opens his eyes, it's to see the string of saliva and slick connecting your swollen lips to his softening cock as a few droplets of his cum drip down your chin. and that, is a sight he would never not want to see.
slowly, you get up from your knees, making a silly comment about how he's so much hotter in his winter uniform, and roughly brush your thumb against your bottom lip, collecting all the excess liquid and sucking on it as you watch color return to his cheeks.
"y'er so much trouble, aren'cha" he grins, eyes narrowing in fondness as he pulls you by your neck and sloppily smashes his lips against yours.
pulling back, he sighs before pressing the emergency stop button, eyebrows raising as he notices the crowd of people there, "get back to work you little shits, 'm not paying ya to loiter around-! and use thegoddamn stairs if the elevator ain't working! " and that classic workaholic bakugo act would've fooled everyone else, but when kirishima notices how everytime the elevator has acted up it's been the two of you going down, or coming up, he feels like he's connecting some dots, so he moves forward to catch a better glimpse, and there you are, oh, not to mention the very suspicious white stuff on bakugo's shoes. but it's okay, Kirishima won't tell anyone, maybe he'll take a quick check of the security cameras though, just to erase any evidence that might hurt his manly friend's rep, right? at least that's what he tries to convince himself of as he jolts downstairs with a boner harder than his quirk.
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© starreo 2024. do not copy, translate or repost .
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scorpioriesling · 4 months ago
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Caught in 4k H.C.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris, and Tamlin
Warnings: mdni, 18+, smut, masterbation, mentions of multiple kinks if you squint
Summary: A collection of head cannons where you catch the ACOTAR boys fantasizing / jerking it :) Just for funsies and I hope you like, lol. I also included photos for each! <3
SR’s Note: Honestly I saw this new photo / fan art of Lucien andddd I had to do something with it. The ween was staring at me… I was quite literally caught in 4k. SO, here we are, here’s an idea, I rolled with it. Enjoy, all you freaks (;
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
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Rhysand
Would absolutely be jerking off at his desk, in his office. Doors locked, he thinks no one is home.
He would start slow of course, then speed it up, thinking about you — how you looked before you’d left for downtown Velaris this morning, your hair up in that cute ponytail that showed off your pretty face.
Last time he had you at his desk your hair had been in a ponytail. His fist made for a rather sturdy hair tie.
“Ohhh,” he let out a small sigh, thinking of how your body looked as he pounded into you relentlessly from behind, your round little ass reverberating with every snap of his upper thighs against it. He squeezed his cock harder, thinking about the sounds that came with those thrusts-
“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his head rolling back as he relaxed back in his chair, pumping his cock faster and faster, the image of your naked body pushing him toward his impending release. The way the desk would creak as his dick reached unimaginable depths inside you, sliding in and out so fucking fast; your body fit perfectly with his.
“Rhys! I’m back!” Your honey-filled, sing-songy voice rang out from the downstairs foyer just before he could release, and he immediately halted his movements. How long had he been doing this? He glanced at the clock — surely you hadn’t been gone that long.
The soft patter of footsteps rang out on the stairs, and he stuffed his still-hard dick back into his formal pants, struggling to tug the zipper up and attempt to conceal his erection. You’d surely notice, and he’d surely be embarrassed.
The door to the office swung open, and sure enough, you stood — bags in hand, ponytail and all. The bright smile on your face faltered when Rhys’ failed attempt at a warm greeting was recognized.
“What’s wrong, sweet heart?” You asked, setting down the paper bags and striding over to his desk. No no no, he thought. You needed to get out of here, at least until he could calm down.
“Nothing, my love.” He smiled, embracing you as you moved to sit on his lap. You shifted slightly, looking at all the papers atop his desk.
“You’ve got a lot of work it seems,” you say. He sighs lightly. “Yes my love,” he responds, kissing your cheek. The feel of you against him stiffens his cock, and he can only pray you don’t notice.
“Mhm,” you hum, shifting on him once more. Rhys’ breath comes out ragged, and you side-eye him with a smirk. “Almost the same amount as when I left earlier,” you point out. A small tinge of pink flushes his cheeks and you chuckle, kissing the tip of his nose before gazing tensely into his eyes.
“What were you doing up here all alone, anyways?” He meets your eye with an equally challenging stare. “Working.” He says coolly. You smile humorlessly, moving to straddle him instead. Instinctively, his hands cup your ass, squeezing hard. He knew what you were doing, but you didn’t care. It worked, and that’s all that mattered.
“I have something… else… you could work on, if you’d like?”
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Cassian
He’d trained with you enough by now that he’d gotten used to your… attire. The way your tight leathers clung to your body, every dip and curve of you outlined for everyone to see.
He didn’t care so much now that you’d been together so long, but something about you striding in that morning stirred something in him.
You were laughing in that vivacious way you did, usually with Gwyn and Emerie and Nesta — a lot of times, when he was lucky, with him too.
He smiled at the sound of your voice, floating down the stairwell toward the training ring. His back was to you; but when he turned and caught the sight of you, your legs bare and midriff exposed, his breath faltered a bit.
Sure, he’d seen you completely nude before, but in front of your peers? Your friends? Especially during training… he wasn’t sure how he would handle two hours of this kind of torture. He could already feel the blood rushing to his cock at the sight.
“Y/N this isn’t- You know for training you can’t-“ he fumbled. Gwyn giggled, and you rolled your eyes.
“Cassie, it’s like a hundred degrees in here today. You said we weren’t doing hand to hand anyway; what’s the harm in lighter clothing?” You shrugged. He only stared blankly at you, commanding his eyes not to drift past your collarbone.
His hand jerking his cock later that day was the harm in lighter clothing.
He let out soft breaths, leaned back as he sat on the edge of his bed.
He thought about how that tiny little tank top was stretched thin across your generous chest, how his eyes traced over the outline of your bra when you did your warm ups. Gods… how many times he’d ripped thin little things like those off of you, how many times he’d toyed with you, undoing your lacy bras you’d wear just for him…
He kept pumping, thinking about how your tits bounced when he purposefully assigned the group jumping jacks and high knees exercises, and how painful his cock grew during your session.
He thought back to the times he drilled into you on this very bed, your knuckles white on the headboard as he shoved his cock deep inside of you, your screams of pleasure only encouraging him further.
It was borderline torturous today during cool down yoga, watching you in downward dog, your spine arched, your long legs on display. Under your shorts, he could only imagine the panties you had on — maybe his favorite, the glittery kind he could easily slide down your legs with his teeth.
Usually, this was before he would lick your cunt until you shook beneath him, your slick covering his lips and chin.
Had no one else attended training this morning, he honestly would’ve taken you right there; yanked your mini shorts over that perky little ass and drove himself straight inside of you. “You want to tease me? You know what happens when you play around,” he knows you love it when he spanks you-
“Cassie?”
He stilled, his chest heaving as he opened his eyes. Lo and behold, you were before him again. You hadn’t yet changed out of your training attire, and as your eyes trailed over his form on the bed, taking in what he was doing — you closed the door behind you.
“Baby, I-“ he stammers, and you only smirk at him.
“I suppose the new outfit this morning worked, hm?”
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Azriel
It was hard, so painfully hard having a mate as beautiful as Azriel. So hard having a mate so beautiful, but was gone so often on missions that you found yourself at times taking care of your needs on your own.
You couldn’t blame him for it, you were quite lucky. But little did you know, he would need to take care of his own twice as much.
On this occasion, it was a case of… well, miscommunication. He was scheduled to be gone on a mission, and you’d told him you would stay the night with Morrigan instead of being alone in your shared home for the evening.
Of course, that was not what happened.
Azriel finished his mission early. He reported to Rhys, flew back home, and was happy to have a night off with rest and relaxation. He even lit candles in the house, for christ sakes.
He knew you were at Mor’s, and though he missed you so much, he didn’t want to take away from girls night. He’d walked in on one once and… well… let’s just say he’d never do it again.
Azriel was padding around the flat, finishing the last few sips of black coffee from his mug when he passed the sapphire door. His steps faltered, only for a moment, and he tipped his mug back to drain it, still eyeing the opened door.
Curiousity, and years of spy work must have gotten the best of him. He sat his mug on the hallway table, pushing against the usually locked door. This room was off limits to everyone, that was, except you and Azriel.
His breath caught in his throat as he made his way through the room, sitting in the plush chair near the center of it.
“Oh…. my…” he breathed. He leaned forward, his gaze flickering between the various vibrators scattering the ground. He stared, feeling unable to move — that was, other than his dick, which began to twitch beneath his leathers.
He continued to gaze, cataloguing which items weren’t in their holding places. Other than the vibrators, there were clamps missing, and maybe-
His cock fucking throbbed. He sat back in the chair, yanking on the ties and binds to free himself from his pants. Finally, finally getting his dick in his hands, he allowed his mind to wander further.
When were you in here alone? It had to be within the last few days, it didn’t look like this before he left. He slid his scarred fingers over his long shaft, thinking of you in this room, the things you’d done together in here. What you’d likely done alone.
“Mmmm,” he grunted, holding himself tighter. He thought of your tight cunt, how he had to work his thick cock into you every. Single. Time. “Fuck,” he muttered. You always looked so beautiful, a gorgeous, ruined mess for him, all tied up on the bed. Gods, the sounds you’d make, how they’d echo off the walls, through the entire house-
“Fuck baby, so tight for me,” he groaned. He usually wasn’t so vocal, preferring to hear you much more instead, but alone… he wished he could talk your ear off. Tell you to play with yourself, right in front of him so he could watch.
Gods, if he were here, watching you cry out against your vibrator thinking about him… there’s no way he would be able to hold back.
“Good girl, good fucking girl, take it, take all of it-“ he sucks in a breath, his gaze snagging on a pair of lacy underwear discarded by the bed. He quickly snatches them up, remembering how they looked last time you’d had them on.
The soft sound of the front door opening and closing pulls Azriel from his haze, immediately tossing the underwear back under the bed. He shoves his dick inside his leathers, groaning as his pants protest against his size. You weren’t even supposed to be back tonight — maybe the plans with Mor fell through.
Within minutes, he’s closing the door as quietly as he can, sure you won’t suspect a thing. He smiles lightly to himself. Hopefully, if you’re home to stay, you’ll be in the mood to finish what he’d already started.
He’s almost halfway down the hallway, heading for the foyer when a cough sounds from behind him — the other end of the hallway. He turns slowly, and sure enough; his eyes meet yours. Only for a moment though; he can’t help but notice the sheer nightie you’ve managed to slip into, breasts pushed up from your hands clasped behind your back.
“Having fun in there by yourself?” You tease, jerking your chin toward the sapphire door across the hall. Azriel doesn’t move a muscle, his thoughts racing.
“H-how did you know I was in there?” He asks, his tone low. You only giggle, taking a few steps toward him and revealing your hands at once. One held his mug, which he hadn’t noticed wasn’t on the hallway table anymore.
“Seems we’ve both forgotten to put our things away, hmm?” You wink. “I’ve lived with the Spymaster long enough to pick up on a few things, Azzie.”
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Lucien
With Lucien, things were always *almost* a little more than “friendly”. Sure, you’d been best friends for centuries now, but over time, you’d both begun to realize there was more to it than just being friends.
“It’s truly not that complicated,” Tamlin explained. “She likes you, you’re clearly in love with her — I don’t see where the problem lies?” But, Lucien still only sighed.
“We’ve been friends so long, I just don’t want anything ruined,” he’d explained. That only made his High Lord friend laugh.
“I think it was ruined, my friend, the moment you let your feelings cloud your judgement. Which was a very, very long time ago.”
Honestly, he wasn’t wrong. In your youth, you and Lucien were simply platonic; you’d grown up together, bonded over the horrors you’d both endured and helped each other through, and found comfort in relying on one another.
But over time, that changed. Suddenly, attending Balls and Galas with Lucien sent flutters through your stomach. Going to dinners with him on quiet evenings warmed your heart, and now when he brought you flowers for your table — it felt new, it felt… more.
“Well, aren’t you the loveliest couple Prythian has to offer!”
This would happen often.
One of you, or both, would hastily explain that you’re just best friends. Well, you used to, anyway. Last time the older woman in the market made a comment as such, Lucien just smiled politely and held your hand tighter, continuing on as though nothing happened.
The moment that had tipped it all though… oh boy. You’d been in the kitchen of the manor, baking apple tartlets as autumn was approaching and they were Lucien’s favorite from back home. He had joined you, wanting to learn from someone with such a talent and, honestly he just wanted to spend time with you.
“Okay, next we need flour… Lucie, that’s you,” you whispered the last part, and Lucien snapped out of his daze. His hand dropped from his chin, propping his head up on the counter as he gazed at you from across it.
“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry,” he stood, searching for and grabbing the bag of flour from behind him. You smiled, taking it from him and measuring out a few cup fulls. He resumed his position, looking to you once more.
You met his gaze, your hand stopping midway between the bowl and bag. “Lucien, I thought you wanted to help me,” you said.
“Right, right, I do,” he moved toward you, pushing up the sleeves of his tan waffle-knit sweater as you dumped in another cup. Your breath caught as his hands appeared on either side of you, the sudden feeling of his toned body pressing against your backside lightly ceasing the air from your lungs. You tried to remind yourself to resume your breathing as normal — the steady rise and fall of your shoulders measured now by his chin resting atop your left one.
“Next… we, have two eggs,” you explained. You take them from the carton, and Lucien chuckles behind you, his body so close you can feel every movement and muscle beneath his clothing.
“Allow me,” he says smoothly, his arms caging you in closer along your sides as his hands rest atop yours. “I think I know how to at least do this part.”
You allow yourself a laugh, but it comes out breathless. He does as such, cracking them into the bowl and setting down the shells.
“Alright, now next is… hey!” You squeal, turning to face him in shock. He laughs, his smile radiant as you look down your nose at the dash of flour smeared on it. You reach for the bag, but you’re too slow — Lucien has both of your wrists held tight in an instant, pinning you to the counter with his hips against yours. Your noses are mere inches apart, and he continues grinning.
“Lucien, this isn’t-“ He doesn’t let you get another word in before he smushes his lips against yours, and you instinctively soften against him. Years, you’d waited years for this — the feel of him against you, his lips touching yours. All of those almosts, all the lingering touches, all of the sleepovers and hugs that went on too long, all those times your hand held his.
Now that he’d had you once, he only wanted more.
Which was why he sat in his favorite spring meadow now, trying to clear his head.
He couldn’t.
He only thought of you.
You, in all your beauty. The way your hair would always fall perfectly around your face. How you felt, your soft lips pressed against his. How your body, he was so careful to protect, felt pressed against him that day. He hated how hard his cock was just thinking of your ass pressed against him.
When he’d caught you off guard and finally kissed you… Gods, you’d look so lovely laid across the counter, wrists held above your head in his grip. He’d worship you and kiss every inch of you if you’d let him. Tartlets be damned; he’s sure you’d taste even better.
He was smiling to himself in the afternoon light when the most beautiful voice made itself heard before him.
“I can only wonder what you’re dreaming about to have such…” You playfully tease, your sentence trailing off. His eyes fly open, and he sits upright, looking at you and trying to find some kind of response.
“No! No, I uh, was just drifting off, just lounging here, against this uh…” he pats the fallen tree trunk behind him.
“…wood?” You finish. He shakes his head slowly, a smile creeping onto his lips. You giggle, dropping to your knees before him and adjusting your skirt around you. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and he blushed.
“Well, tell me what you were thinking, then? Maybe I’ve thought of things similar.”
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Eris
It was a beautiful morning — perfect for the horseback ride Eris had planned with you that day. He knew you had a few duties to tend to into the evening, and he wanted to squeeze in a little alone time beforehand if he could. You were more than happy to oblige.
“I’m not sure I’ve seen the leaves this red so soon in the season before,” you pointed out, looking around the autumn grove in wonder. Eris looked too, his focus landing on you once more like it had countless times already that morning. He knew, of course his mate was gorgeous, but… you were truly getting the best of him today.
“Maybe the season is getting longer,” he said absentmindedly, watching how your hips moved forward and back as your horse trotted along. Fuck, if you didn’t have obligations clogging your schedule later today, he’d have you off that horse and sitting on him instead. Gods what he’d give to feel that tight, pulsing cunt throbbing on his awaiting dick-
“Ooh! Eris look! Those are honeycrisp!” You said excitedly. “We have to get some, your mother has been looking everywhere for these.” Eris mentally kicked himself for being such a … guy. He was so happy just to spend time with you right now, and of course his mind was going to sex when his absolute gift of a mate was innocently noticing the apples dangling from the trees, thinking of others while his mind was only thinking of you.
Then again, he only ever seemed to think of you.
“Anything for you, dear.” You flashed him a smile then, and his spirits lifted higher. He led his mare toward the trees, sliding off and tying the reigns as you slowly approached behind him. You were shorter than him, and though you had enough courage for the entire Autumn court, you didn’t mind a gentle helping hand every once in a while. You handed your mate your own reigns, watching as he tied them to a branch as you also made to de-saddle.
His strong hands slid around your waist, firmly placed on either side as he hoisted you from the animal with ease and set you gently on the ground in front of him. You grinned up at him then, your hands still on his shoulders as a sudden rush went through you. You couldn’t help but remember the excitement you’d felt all those years ago when he was but a simple schoolgirl crush to you; that feeling remaining even now that you’re mated to the Autumn heir.
“I love you,” he said then, his one hand cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned into him, his hands roaming over your body as you felt his pants tighten slightly against your stomach. You chuckled, breaking for air before he got too many ideas.
“Apples?” You suggested. He nodded, swallowing thickly, but you could see the lust swelling in his irises. Once all your tasks were done today, you were sure you’d be seeing more of this side of him later tonight. “Apples,” he agreed.
The Lady of Autumn was more than thrilled with the discoveries you and Eris had come back with, her gratitude for the both of you evident before she bid the both of you goodbye. Watching you go, even for a few hours felt like torture for Eris. He shook his head, cursing the dirty thoughts racing through his mind — but they wouldn’t stop.
They surely didn’t stop as he sat before the fireplace at sunset, lazily sipping the last remnants of whisky from his glass as he scanned over the court’s weekly newsletter. The words were a blur; he was just passing the time and waiting for you to come home. Waiting to get his hands on you again.
Gods, your lips had tasted so good this morning, so warm against the cool air of the grove. Fuck, that little waist… when he’d had you the other night, bent over on the bed, fucking himself into you relentlessly, his hands gripping your smooth skin-
He wasn’t sure when he set down his glass, or when his paper hit the floor, but his fingers were now gliding over his cock, throbbing with need. His head rolled back, short breaths coming out between his parted lips.
The way your body moved this morning… he let out a soft groan. He thought of you, sitting on his lap, the fire casting a golden glow around you, bouncing up and down on his length. You didnt need any other fire — you emitted light yourself, everything you did, everywhere you went. You were the sun itself.
“Y/N…” he sucked in a breath, yanking on his cock. He thought about the tiny lingerie you’d wear for him, how he could pull it down over your tits and take one of your nipples between his teeth as you rode him harder…
His groans were cut short as a soft, familiar mouth met his, and he slowed his strokes but smiled into the kiss in realization. You pulled back an inch, a few tendrils of your hair tickling his neck and shoulders as you leaned over the couch above him, taking the scene in fully.
“Did you miss me?”
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Tamlin
The sharp knock at the door startled him, his gaze drifting from the reports on his desk to the entrance of his study.
“It’s nearly ten thirty, Sir,” Alis peeked her head in. “I’m going to turn in for the night, unless there was anything else you needed.” Tamlin’s eyes widened in realization, and he looked at the wall clock for confirmation. Sure enough, 10:27 p.m. He sighed heavily.
“No, no, I’m quite alright Alis. Tell me, has Y/N turned in already?” He asked. His heart clenched as he tugged on the bond with no response. He’d told you he would be done with these reports hours ago, but, per usual to no avail. He hated disappointing you.
“I haven’t seen her since nine, Sir.” Alis said. He only nodded, and she closed the door quietly. Tamlin rubbed his eyes, shuffling his files into neat stacks and flicking off his table side lamp before heading toward the master bedroom.
Upon entering, his heart dropped even more. Of course you’d gone to bed, why wait up? He’d done this before. Promised to be done with work only to stay awake for hours into the night, not giving you the attention you’d deserved from him.
You. His mate.
His mate that, upon further inspection, must have believed he would finish on time tonight. You’d fallen asleep in a petal-laden lingerie set, barely leaving anything to the imagination. Tamlin’s lips pressed into a thin line — it was one of his favorites. Now he really felt bad.
Not only did he feel bad… he felt horny.
He stepped as quickly and quietly as he could across the hall toward the master bathroom, closing the door and leaning against the sink.
His chest heaved, and he stared at himself in the mirror, his cock growing harder and harder in his pants. He needed a shower, now.
He flipped the water on, allowing the steam to cloud in the bathroom before he cracked open the door to the hallway, just an inch so some of the hot air could filter out. The moonlight illuminated the space enough through the window — he avoided turning on the lights.
It was only after he’d stripped and gotten into the warm water that he’d started fisting his cock.
Images of you played in his mind, some recent, some from the past. The first time you’d made love in the garden — you had daisy petals all through your hair, your back bridging as it arched in pleasure while he ate you out. Gods, you tasted so sweet — sweeter than any honey Tamlin had ever tasted, in his court or beyond it.
His free hand braced against the cool tile of the shower wall, his other running along his thick length faster.
The images burned into his brain of you laid out on his desk — one he’d been spending so much time at lately with his stupid papers — your mouth open, crying out his name as he worked your clit with his fingers.
Your hands felt so good tangled in his hair… he’d missed that so much, he knew it was his own damn fault for not giving you enough of really anything lately.
“Gods Y/N,” he gritted out, his teeth clenched. The warm water ran over the defined muscles of his back, a reminder, but not quite as exact as the feeling of your fingers on him during those nights of the frenzy. That’s when you’d gotten that adorable, flowery little number anyway that you were wearing now — were you asking to be fucked like that, again?
He groaned at the thought, biting his lip in anticipation. The way you’d looked, so peaceful and delicate, your hair laid prettily on your pillow — but he knew.
Every once in a while, you wanted him crazy. You didn’t want nice, gentle, garden love-making. You wanted mating-bond, frenzy-crazed, sex. The kind that had you once drenching the sheets with your cum, squirting from you as your mate pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. The kind that had you shaking as you sat on his face, his nose nudging your clit as his tongue played in your folds.
“FUCK,” Tamlin swore, pumping his dick so hard, feeling his release building, imagining your tongue on him instead, your awaiting mouth and beautiful, round eyes gazing up at him from the floor…
“Looking for somewhere to, finish?” You asked, stepping lightly into the shower behind him. Tamlin stilled, his face flushing at being caught in the act.
“I… sweetheart I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I-“
“You didn’t,” You interjected, crossing your arms beneath your breasts. Tamlin’s cock jerked, his eyes roaming hungrily over your naked body. The cute outfit was something, yes, but your body, just you — now that was something he’d prefer over anything.
“…but I wish you would have.” You raised an eye brow at him.
His eyes darkened at your words and he chuckled, looking to the floor and shaking his head slowly.
“Y/N, I don’t think I’ll be able to last very long-“
“Try me,” you challenged, stepping forward as his gaze met yours. “We haven’t yet done it in the shower.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚
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astrophileblogs07 · 9 months ago
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Astro Observations pt.21
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Back with some very random Astro observations 😁
⚫ Saturn aspecting the 7th house actually can dislike 9 to 5 jobs or corporate office jobs. They are better with freelancing. Its coz they can't take orders. Sorry not sorry. 💀(Ig that's a Saturn 7H thing 😆)
⚫ An interesting thing I observed: Among two siblings, the elder one has Leo rising which means Scorpio 4H and the younger one has Scorpio moon. And their Mom is a Scorpio moon too. She's a nice lady though but is such a control freak. (I know I am one too, but like when I met her the second time that "controlling" vibe just hit me like a big yellow school bus 🚌😭😭). That was so funny lol😂. -All the more her birthdate is a single digit 1.(these people are the alpha type, always lead and never follow and hence are dominating, one to have the last say) which is cherry on top. -She is fiercely protective of her kids. Can't emphasize enough on "fierce" part. Very strict. Rules are to be followed very religiously. {She can't stand any one of them doing anything without her knowledge. She even monitors whom they interact with what they do on their mobiles etc.(from what I suspect)} (obv Scorpio moon mom traits) (sometimes Leo moon moms too){nothing unhealthy here, just Mom's way of showing they care 😂}
⚫Saturn and Workout: -Workout 🏋️‍♀️requires CONSISTENCY. Saturn LOVES consistency. -In fact the best remedy for Saturn is sweating. JUST SWEAT by hard work. No matter what it maybe: workout, walking, jobs, cardio, sports etc. 🤸‍♀️🚴‍♀️🏋️‍♀️
⚫ Whilst on the topic of Saturn, people who follow a time table for literally everything the planet doesn't harm them much during its Dasha (even if its your worst one). I mean obviously you played by the rules 🤷‍♀️
⚫ Magha is the only nakshatra for which you don't need in depth compatibility match. They get along with everyone.
⚫Scorpio Venuses/8H Venuses are paranoid. They notice and suspect everything (sometimes things which are not there/imaginary). (For eg, me, who thinks that someone is peeping thru my curtains even when nobody is there and all my curtains cover my windows properly. 🤣).
⚫Also as a basic Scorpio Venus behavior: while writing chats/texting, I always think- "what if someone else reads it?"..so I just don't give much details in texts. (Gosh, sometimes I think somethings wrong with me 😭😭)
⚫The proven way to hurt a Leo moon: compare them with any other person and tell them that the person is wayy better in a certain thing esp if it's a triat that the Leo is proud of. 🤣 (P.S don't do that, its mean and the Leo will hunt you, which you don't want 😀.)
⚫Why do Aries moon men have a bunch of good friends for life and Aries moon women struggle with having at least one good genuine female friend for life? (I'm jealous)
⚫ Maybe its becoz they get along more with guys than gals so the girls are jealous of them...so hence no good female friends. 😢🤡 Aries moons are the best-est people for friendships you'll ever get.
⚫ People born on a Saturday look melancholic.
⚫ You can NEVER mislead a Leo rising. They study litreally everything: what you say what you do, and why you do so. Similar to Scorpios
⚫If you see a person having graceful and "royal" way of walking or behaving, they're are sure shot to have a Magha Ascendant.
⚫Connecting the dots here: as I said in one of my previous posts that Maghas get framed even when they have done nothing, what I interpreted is that Maghas are actually the definition of royalty. They literally have that ✨grace✨, that kinda magnanimous personality and similar struggles to a monarch. Totally King/Queen typa energy here. So with that, the usual consequences in a Kingdom is conspiracy against the king, which the Maghas face. (Enough with Maghas ig, started observing them recently so..✌🏻💀)
That's it for today, until next time! (like,comment and reblog loveliesss❤❤😘)
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pirateshelly · 4 months ago
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There really is a sort of tragic irony to the fact that Armand's one moral line in the sand that he's managed to maintain despite centuries of adapting and having his identity shaped and reshaped by others (his refusal to turn anyone else into a vampire) is just kind of never taken seriously by those around him. Louis dismisses it as him being contrary and difficult and Daniel reacts with the sort of mocking disbelief you often see in people if they've been told someone doesn't want children or has never had sex; like it's more of a slightly absurd failing than a choice worth respecting.
Because honestly, saying 'I may literally depend on taking other people's lives to survive and I can't change what I am, but the one thing I will never do is make more of us or condemn anyone else to this" is a completely reasonable stance to take! It's a more practical way of attempting to be a vampire in a way that minimizes harm than trying to just not eat people, which is inevitably going to fail. Which is obviously not to say that this makes Armand, like, a good moral person lol (none of these characters are, and they'd be less interesting if they were, but it's still more interesting to me to recognize the ways they struggle with that than to act like the story exists in some sort of amoral void where nothing matters because everyone's a literal monster).
Like. That's his one single personal boundary, the one tiny thread of humanity he'd managed to keep for himself and has control over. And obviously I'm not defending his choice to betray Louis and Claudia and Madeleine. But you can still understand, as a viewer, how (from his understandably very warped and defensive way of interacting with the world) Louis and Claudia choosing to turn Madeleine anyway and essentially making him complicit was the one big thing that pushed him over the line to thinking "this relationship is not something I can trust enough to be worth risking my standing with the coven I've been a part of for centuries for"
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astrow1zar6 · 11 months ago
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Astro notes- 22
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Having a Neptune in the 1st house can feel like your living in a dream. It’s harder for you to not get taken up by your imagination. This placement is known for dreaming with their eyes open. A lot struggle from Maladaptive Daydreaming. Meditation/ Breath work can help with grounding these people.
Aries placements (especially the moon & rising) have amazing eyebrows. They’re all so perfect arched and full. They’re eyebrows can sometimes make them look intimidating as well.
Libra in your big three usually have buck teeth or they just have really big teeth in the front.
People with Pluto risings cannot stand fake energy. Being around too many fake people can literally make them go insane & snap on everyone. These people normally March at the beat of their own drum which causes many people to flock to them for advice.
Aquarius moons emotions can come out really robotically. Like you don’t know if they really care when you vent to them. They act very nonchalantly and bored when people open up emotionally to them. I started crying in front of my aqua moon friend once and she just stared at me & patted me on the back😭😂 she tried tho. Also I notice aqua moons have a weird thing with physical affection. They are the times to give like 2 seconds hugs or just not like to be touched much in general.
Sagittarius suns have a habit of embarrassing themselves to make others laugh. They really have no shame. They will say and no the most outlandish shit just to get a giggle out of someone. They can sometimes embarrass others tho if they do too much. They can be really extra.
People with Gemini & Sagittarius in their big three we’re probably class clowns
Leo suns never wanted the same things as anyone when they were little. They always wanted something that made them stand out from the crowd. (Ex: everyone had pink tiaras for my cousins birthday and my Leo cousin threw a fit because she wanted purple instead so she didn’t look like everyone else) 😂
Aquarius suns are chameleons in social settings. They can fit into any group & usually have a big people pleaser personality. Not in a weak way however but they just understand what people like & how to engage certain people properly.
Capricorn stelliums can end up being rich or famous. These people are really hustlers. I’ve seen these people start businesses in their 20s with this it worked 3 jobs to get the life they need. One thing these people know how to do is work.
Cancer and Libra suns tend to loose themselves in partnerships the most. I’ve seen these people make their partners their world while they completely neglect other areas of their life. They are both really blinded by love.
Uk an Aries sun women likes you when they start teasing/bullying you. (Playfully!) arguing is foreplay to them bizarrely lol.
If Jupiter is prominently yet negatively aspected in the chart it can show narcissistic or sociopathic tendencies.
Virgo moons tend to like very fresh light scents. Like fresh linen, laundry smells, light floral scents. Nothing to heavy.
Taurus placements look best with minimal to no makeup & Libra placements normally look incredible with a full face of makeup or just glamour looks. It’s really interesting how the two sides of Venus play out. Taurus gives more of an earthy goddess vibe & Libra gives me a more chic fashionista insta model/influencer vibe. Both value beauty & aesthetics but in opposite ways.
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mod-kyoko · 1 year ago
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Hello! Hope you’re having a good day/night. Could I please request Nagito x gn reader that was helping take care of him during the whole despair disease outbreak, and whenever Nagito said ‘I hate you’ the reader would just respond with something along the lines of “Love you too, Komaeda.” Could be headcanons, oneshot, or whatever. Whichever you’d prefer.
Sorry if this sounds weird, I don’t usually make requests lol. Thanks in advance!!
taking care of despair diseased nagito
type: in killing game, hc format, established relationship
a/n: anon it's so crazy i was literally just playing chapter 3 of dra2 and was at the part when they get the disease
♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧
you noticed right away that something was wrong with nagito
every word that came out of his mouth was a lie
it was almost like he couldn't speak the truth at all
when hajime felt his forehead and noticed that nagito was burning up, you knew that was the reason behind his behavior
monokuma popped up soon after, confirming that nagito was indeed afflicted by the lying disease
still, you didn't understand why some disease would cause nagito to say things like nothing is real, everyone is fake, and everyone is out to get him
but it was impossible to reason with him, especially because not long after he passed out, crumpling to the floor
you lunged forward, grabbing onto him to soften his fall, and pulled him onto your lap
"mikan! we need to get him to the hospital!" you yelled, while everyone else stood by in shock
the nurse helped you carry nagito all the way to the hospital on the third island, where you laid him in a bed
"u- um, we need to get him out of his clothes and into a gown," mikan said
"i got it, go help ibuki and akane," you replied, so she left it to you
nagito regained consciousness while you were slipping his shirt over his head
"ah! what are you doing to me? ah, are you planning to abduct me and take me to your home planet?"
you would have laughed at the silliness of the question if he wasn't in such dire condition. instead, you replied patiently
"i'm not an alien, nagito" you reached for his pants to slide them down his legs, but he swats your hand away
"i don't... want..." he was struggling to finish his sentence without panting from the fever
"i know, i'm sorry. but i need to get you into a gown. would you rather have mikan do it?"
"yes, i would much prefer mikan do it," he rambled, staring at the wall
your heart fluttered a little bit, knowing he meant the opposite of what he said. but this wasn't the time to be flustered
after wrestling with your boyfriend a little bit, you finally got his pants off, and draped the gown around his shoulders
once you tied it, you let him lay back down on the bed, and he closed his eyes
at this point there wasn't anything else you can do, with no medic knowledge, so you decided to just comfort him through it
you reached out to pat his head, smoothing down his hair
he reacted weakly, shaking his head as if to shoo away your hand
"get your filthy hand off me," he snarled
by now you were starting to translate his words in your head
"go away (please stay)"
"stop touching me (don't stop)"
with one hand running through his hair, your other laced your fingers in his, watching as he shifted between a state of being awake and being unconscious
"i... hate you" he spat, beads of sweat collecting at his temple
"i love you too, nagito" you smiled, gently squeezing his hand
"i seriously... hate you... go away."
"i'm here, you're okay. i won't leave you."
"i don't want you here! go away!"
his eyes were watering, and you didn't know if he was crying because he was in pain or angry, so you reached out and wiped the tears away
"i want to be here, i won't leave you, i promise."
you could have sworn you felt him squeeze your hand back once before he slipped back into sleep
♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧
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libraryofgage · 1 year ago
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Addams Family B-Side (3)
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (on the way!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)
Did I already post today? Yes. Did I also post two chapters of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins today? Yes. I am just incredibly productive today, who knows when it's gonna happen again lol
Anyway, finally! The next B-Side! This bitch has been stewing my guys, so I hope you enjoy it lol
There are two memes at the very end of this one, so definitely stick around
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't 😘
--------
For four weeks, Eddie feels himself losing his mind. He finds gifts in his locker every other day, and he's convinced they're from Steve Harrington. He now has a taxidermied bat, a fancy-looking vial with a skull and crossbones embossed in the glass and filled with mysterious liquid, an actual human skull that Eddie immediately incorporates into his next campaign, and a spider. An actual spider. A live spider that, after a little research, he learns is a fucking Black Widow that seems unnaturally friendly.
Eddie can't stress that part enough. Multiple people have mistaken the spider for an intricate vest patch because it just sits perfectly still over his chest pocket. It only moves to rub its head against Eddie's fingers whenever his hand passes over it, and even then it's careful to avoid hurting him with its pincers.
He names her Nox.
Those aren't the only gifts he's received, but they're the most notable, and Eddie is overwhelmed and flustered by the positive attention he's suddenly receiving.
The other thing driving him crazy is Pubert Addams, a guy Eddie had never paid much attention to before but now considers his mortal enemy. He's convinced Pubert is, at worst, potentially abusive or, at best, delusional and taking advantage of Steve's kindness and inability to brutally turn him down. Or maybe Eddie is the crazy one; he doesn't actually know. Whichever it is, Eddie is ready to take the very nice dagger he now has (gift number 15; yes, Eddie has been counting) and stab him with it.
Because he can't get more than two minutes alone with Steve before Pubert appears out of nowhere. Eddie runs into Steve in the hall while everyone else is in class? Pubert shows up with a hall pass two seconds later and literally waltzes Steve away from him. Eddie finds Steve camped out in the library during study hall? Pubert materializes in the chair next to Steve before Eddie can sit down, leaning far too close as he asks Steve to explain something from their shared Gothic Literature class. Eddie, by some miracle, is behind Steve in the lunch line (and he calls this a miracle because Steve always brings his lunch in a pink box with black skulls, which Eddie considers incredibly brave of him to carry around like it's nothing)? Before Eddie can do more than say hi and get a blinding smile in return, Pubert fucking Addams shows up and drags Steve away while promising to share his lunch.
Eddie is just about to lose the last shred of patience he's struggling to maintain when Steve finds him. Ironically, it's the same bathroom where they first talked, the one with mysterious mold growing in the corner that Eddie is convinced is some new species. It's the only bathroom with a busted smoke detector, and Eddie goes there to get high during his free period.
He's halfway through a joint, smoke curling around him as he sits on the sink counter and tries not to think about what else has been there, when the door swings open, Steve walks in, and Eddie chokes on his inhale.
"Don't die like this," Steve says, stepping closer and patting Eddie's back like they know each other, "It's no fun."
Eddie finally gets himself under control, taking a deep breath and wincing at the way his lungs burn. "No worries," he croaks out, regretting the departure of Steve's hand on his back. "What are you doing here? Please don't tell me you plan to use this bathroom."
"As curious as I am about the bacteria teeming on these toilet seats, no." Steve sounds genuine, like he really does want to swab the toilet seats and see what grows. Instead, he places his bag on the sink and pulls out a familiar vial with a familiar skull and crossbones. "I just came to drink."
"Oh?" Eddie says, leaning forward with a grin. He looks Steve up and down, taking in the pale blue sweater vest and immaculately pressed jeans. "You don't look the drinking type, Stevie."
Steve hums, popping the cork out of the vial and taking a swig from it. "This isn't exactly hard stuff," he says after he swallows, distracted enough that Eddie thinks he misses his eyes lingering on Steve's throat as it bobs.
"Just beer then?"
"What?" Steve asks, looking at Eddie like he's delusional. "No, it's cyanide and vinegar."
He says it with such conviction that Eddie believes him despite knowing cyanide is poison. "Metal," he says, looking away to take another drag of his joint as he struggles to break through his own awkwardness and hold a conversation that will somehow sweep Steve off his feet and make him forget all about Pubert Addams.
Before he can think of something clever and smooth and funny, Steve leans close and raises a hand to his chest. Eddie is about to warn him that Nox is, in fact, real when the spider scuttles onto Steve's fingers and settles in his palm. She does a little up-and-down motion, circles in his hand twice, and rubs her head against his wrist. "You've been taking good care of her," Steve says.
"Uh, yeah. How is she not biting you right now?" Eddie asks, remembering all the times Nox has warningly snapped at others who tried to touch her.
Steve snorts and allows Nox to return to her spot on Eddie's vest. "I raised her," he says, his tone casual like he isn't admitting to showering Eddie with inexplicable gifts for the past four weeks, "of course, she won't bite me."
"So, it has been you," Eddie replies, wanting to hear it from Steve himself.
With a soft hum, Steve takes another sip from his bottle. "Who else would it have been?"
Eddie licks his lips, takes another drag of his joint to brace himself, and hops off the counter. "So, uh, does that mean you li--"
Before the rest of the question can be asked, the bathroom door swings open again, and Eddie feels his eye twitch as Pubert Addams frowns at them. "So, this is where you were," he says, walking over to Steve and putting an arm around his shoulders.
"I told you I was going to the bathroom," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he stuffs the vial back into his bag.
Pubert looks Eddie over, a derisive huff escaping him as he dismisses Eddie and looks at Steve. "On the other side of the school? Really?" he asks, and Eddie would be overthinking what that means if he weren't sure his veins were about to burst.
"We were talking, you know," Eddie says, gaining Pubert's attention again. Steve looks at him, too, his eyes a little brighter.
"I'm sure," Pubert replies, rolling his eyes as he takes Steve's bag. "And now we're leaving." With that, he leads Steve out of the bathroom, the door swinging shut before Steve can do more than smile apologetically and wave.
Anger surges through Eddie, and the shaky drag he takes to finish off his joint does absolutely nothing to soothe it.
He's going to kill Pubert Addams.
--------
Funnily enough, Steve's mother doesn't learn about his crush until he's five weeks into it. When Debbie finally does discover the crush, it's because she walks in on Fester and Steve decorating homemade cookies shaped like anatomically correct hearts. She pauses in the doorway, looking between the two covered in flour and raspberry jam, and asks, "What on earth is going on here?"
Steve looks up, sees this as his chance to finally tell Debbie, and smiles brightly at her. "I'm in love, Mother. He's allergic to raspberry, and Father agreed to help me make him cookies with raspberry filling, so he can feel the same breathlessness I do when I see him," he explains, using his thumb to wipe raspberry jam off his cheek.
Debbie stares at him for a few seconds before looking at Fester. "How long have you known?" she asks.
"Five weeks," Fester admits, looking apologetic. "I wanted to tell you, Pumpkin! But Steve asked me not to so he could tell you himself."
She sighs and walks over to the island, sitting on the edge of a stool and taking one of the cookies for herself. She bites off a pulmonary vein, looking thoughtful as she chews. "I must admit, these are damn good cookies," she finally says, taking one more bite before passing it to Fester to finish. "Tell me about him."
And Steve does. He gushes about Eddie for a solid hour without taking a single breath, spilling everything he's seen Eddie do and how he's reacted to all of Steve's gifts and how he gets so obviously jealous when Pubert butts into their conversations. He tells Debbie about Eddie not screaming when he saw Nox, about him selling drugs, and about his interest in music. Steve laments his hair but eagerly describes the treatment routine he already has in mind.
By the time he's done, the cookies are decorated and his mother's expression has grown a little pained. "Steve, darling, come with me," she says, getting up from the chair and leading him out of the kitchen while Fester starts to clean up.
Steve waits until Debbie has brought him to her spare room to ask, "Did I do something wrong?"
"Well, did you remember my rules about crushes?"
"Yeah. I've talked to him a lot."
Debbie smiles and brings Steve over to the bed, sitting him down and straightening his hair before perching next to him. "Then, you're not in trouble, but you've been going about this all wrong, dear."
"Should I tell Pubert to stop making Eddie jealous?"
"Absolutely not," Debbie says, shaking her head firmly. "In fact, he could try harder. Nothing gets to a man like someone he can't have, especially if he thinks they're in distress."
Steve blinks, frowning slightly as he tries to figure out where, exactly, he's gone wrong. Eddie seems perfectly enamored with him, after all, and Pubert's goading is encouraging his affections, which is the only reason Steve has allowed it to continue. "Did I give him a live spider too soon?" Steve asks, figuring that's the problem here.
"No, that's not...," Debbie trails off, mutters something about Fester being an idiot, and clears her throat. "Steve, your father is the last person you should approach for love advice."
"But...you agreed to marry him, so he must have done something right," Steve says.
Debbie barks a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. "I married your father for his money. I attempted to kill his entire family and only stopped when he promised to give me everything I asked for. I would hardly call him a casanova."
Steve nods along, smiling a little as she speaks. He's heard their great love affair many times, but he doesn't get tired of it. "But you actually love him anyway, right? Father says it's because he showered you with gifts. So, that's what I'm doing."
"I...do love your father," Debbie admits, sighing as though she doesn't know how that happened either. "But it's less because of his gifts and more because...he gave me the devotion I wanted. Anyway, if you learn anything from us, it should be that love comes second."
"What comes first?"
Debbie smiles, the expression positively devious, and Steve can't help returning it. "Obsession," she says, her shoulders rolling back some as pride fills her. "Occupy his every waking thought. Make yourself irresistible. Make him dream of you at night. Overwhelm him with desire until he simply must act on it."
"Oh," Steve says, thinking of how his father acts around Debbie and realizing that obsession never quite went away. But it's worked out well for them, and he knows his mother has experience with luring men into her arms. He nods once and asks, "So, what should I do?"
"I'm so glad you asked," Debbie says, her smile bright and her eyes filled with excitement. "You'll have Eddie falling to his knees before you in no time."
--------
Eddie didn't think it could get worse. He was already attracted to Steve, already distracted by every little movement.
He was wrong. So incredibly wrong.
Because here he is, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty and his cheeks warm because of Steve. He's not even doing anything. Well, that's not true. Steve is curling his tongue around a lollipop before sucking it into his mouth like he'll die without it. But it's more than that. It's the painted-on jeans that hug his legs; it's the pastel pink hoodie (with little bats on the cuffs) that rides up whenever Steve moves to show off a strip of skin just above his waistband; it's the way he finishes the lollipop and pulls out lipgloss, casually telling Pubert it's raspberry flavored as he puts it on.
Eddie swallows around the dryness in his mouth, gripping his locker door so tight that his knuckles turn white as he looks inside it. Sitting innocently on top of everything is a Tupperware container of cookies with raspberry filling (according to the label), and Eddie is ready to eat one just so he can die knowing what Steve's lips taste like.
That's not even the worst of it. The worst is that Steve transfers into Eddie's Music Theory class, smiling innocently while the teacher introduces him and then directs him to sit at the empty desk next to Eddie. When he's close, Eddie realizes Steve smells like cookies and cream ice cream, and he's tempted to ask if Steve smells like his favorite flavor on purpose.
The teacher saves him from the embarrassment of blurting out the question by announcing a project. The teacher then dooms him by telling everyone they're required to work with their desk neighbor. Eddie grips his pen tightly when the teacher tells them to spend the rest of their class time discussing the project.
"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention. When he looks over, Steve is leaning forward on his desk, chin propped in his hand as he looks at Eddie. "Want to come over to my place after school? To work on the project, I mean."
Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds, his tongue stuck in his throat. To his credit, Steve doesn't say anything or call Eddie out for staring at him. He just waits patiently with a little smile curling his lips. Eddie finally clears his throat, his voice coming out a little strained when he says, "Yeah, sure, sounds good. After school. Your place. Project."
Smooth. Real smooth.
When Steve just smiles wider and stretches his arms above his head, pulling his hoodie up, while suggesting they do the project on the evolution of heavy metal music, Eddie realizes he's probably going to die after school.
He can't wait.
-------
Tag List (I think there's still room for a few more people ^_^)
@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara
@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest
And, finally, a two-for-one meme special because I couldn't decide which was funnier:
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mktskii · 3 months ago
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—Fixing More Than Gear
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—Synopsis: The Support Course midterm project is supposed to be a breeze—design a piece of gear, find a model to test it, and call it a day. But when your quiet plan to work with someone under the radar takes a surprising turn, you find yourself caught up in an unexpected situation. Bakugou, the annoying jerk who keeps coming to you to fix his stuff, has other ideas for your project, and for some reason, he won't leave you alone. What happens when a simple request turns into something far more complicated?
—Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB + Support Course!Reader.
—Genre: Slow-burn romance, slice-of-life.
—Tags: Enemies-to-lovers, banter, RBF reader, grumpier x grumpest, miscommunication, one-sided crush continues (HAHA), support course expertise, Bakugou struggling even more with feelings, Bakugou literally wants reader so bad lol, reader is tired of everyone's shit, reader is so done with Bakugou's bs, reader CANNOT catch signals, this slow-burn actually killed me to type down but i will NOT end this series cuz i love this too much.
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It’s that time of year—midterms. Everyone in U.A. has to do some kind of big assignment, but for the Support Course, it's something special. This year, Power Loader, the faculty member overseeing the Support Development Studio, made things easy—or so he thought. The task? Create any kind of support gear you want and have someone from U.A. model and test it. Preferably a hero course student, but anyone would do.
That’s how the chaos started.
Class 1-A quickly became a battlefield of Support Course students swarming the top three—Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. They begged, pleaded, and even offered bribes to get one of them to model their gear. Bakugou? He was having none of it. He exploded (literally and verbally) at anyone who dared approach him with the idea of "modeling." He was a hero-in-training, not a damn mannequin.
But here’s the thing. Deep down, even though Bakugou found the entire situation annoying, he kind of… maybe… secretly… wanted you to ask him.
Bakugou, being Bakugou, had his own reputation to maintain, and there was no way in hell he was going to make the first move. You were supposed to come to him. You knew him, after all. You fixed his gear (and stuff he deemed needing fixing from you personally) all the time. So, it made sense for you to pick him, right? He found a way to sort of pay you back for everything you've done for him.
But then, when he found out that you picked Shinsou Hitoshi from General Studies? Oh, that was when the sparks really flew. You were actually polite to Shinsou, working with him without any of the usual sarcasm or snark you threw at Bakugou. And the fact that Shinsou wasn’t even in the hero course? That stung. You’d seriously rather ask someone from General Studies than ask THE Bakugou Katsuki? Seriously?
He wasn’t jealous. Definitely not. It wasn’t about you. It was about proving that he should have been your first choice. That this was a way for him to say 'thanks' without actually having to say it.
Right?
Now Bakugou had a choice. He could let it go, let you work with Shinsou and forget about the whole thing. Or, he could try something a little out of his comfort zone—actually asking (or forcing..) you into picking him instead. And being Bakugou, there was no way he was going to let something he wanted slip away.
One afternoon, Bakugou stomped his way into the Support Lab, making his presence known with his usual dramatic flair. Everyone else working in the lab was still trying to get used to it by now, and you? You didn’t even glance up from your workbench.
Bakugou, holding up a busted watch, plopped it onto your workspace with an annoyed grunt. “Fix it,” he demanded, his tone implying you owed him something.
You gave him a quick, disinterested glance.
"Again?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, but not really paying much attention. It's just a watch. He watched as you picked the watch up and muttered something about how it didn’t look that broken. You got to work and it took about 2 minutes since, cmon. You’ve fixed way more complicated things for him before. But this was seriously starting to get out of hand.
While you work on his watch, Bakugou starts subtly bringing up the subject of the midterm projects. Or, as subtle as he can be, which is basically him complaining about how much everyone in the Support Course sucks.
“They keep askin’ me to model for their stupid gear,” he grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring at the mess of support tools on your desk.
"Yeah, that sounds about right," you mutter, already tired of the topic. “Everyone’s desperate.”
You don’t think much of it, just nodding in agreement because, yeah, Support Course students were pretty much throwing themselves at any hero course student (hell, any student at this point.) that would listen. But Bakugou? He's trying his hardest to steer the conversation in a particular direction.
“So, who are you gettin’ to be your model?” he asks, barely masking the irritation in his voice. His eyes are on you, waiting for your response.
You shrug. “I already got Shinsou from General Studies. He agreed.”
That’s when Bakugou’s patience starts wearing thin. His jaw clenches, and he has to fight every urge to not let his temper flare up. He already knew that, but hearing it straight from you? That you seriously picked Shinsou? Over him? That stung more than he'd ever like to acknowledge.
“That guy? What’s his Quirk again? Mind control or somethin’?” Bakugou scoffs, trying to hide the fact that he’s more annoyed than usual.
“Yeah,” you answer, without looking up. “He’s quiet. Doesn’t complain much. Gets the job done.”
Bakugou can feel his eye twitch. You hadn’t even thought of him? He nearly short-circuited on the spot, but forced himself to stay calm. His brain screamed at him to not blow it. So, he tried another tactic. “Tch, why not pick someone better? Like… I dunno, a hero or some shit?”
You didn’t even blink. “Like who? Power Loader said it could be anyone. Shinsou’s quieter.”
"Someone who’d actually make your damn gear look good," Bakugou mutters, trying to drop the hint, but you’re completely oblivious.
“Yeah? Well, no one comes to mind.”
Bakugou's temper is rising, but he knows if he blows up, it'll ruin the whole thing. He takes a breath—short, angry, but controlled—and tries one last time.
"I could do it so much better than that sleep-eyed loser." There it was. He had practically laid it out for you, all but outright saying he wanted you to pick him. But instead of jumping at the opportunity, you just handed him his now-fixed watch, scoffed, and said, “Cool, well, good luck with your own midterm.”
Bakugou blinked. That’s it? You didn’t even catch the hint? You probably thought he was joking or something. But, still! Was that not obvious enough?
He took the watch, his frustration boiling to the surface. He wanted to scream, “I’M TRYING TO HELP YOU, DAMMIT!” but instead, he just gritted his teeth and stormed out, the door rattling behind him. You went back to your work, entirely unaware of the emotional crisis Bakugou was going through just because you didn’t ask him to model for your damn project.
As the door slammed shut behind him, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of confusion about your interaction. Had Bakugou actually wanted you to ask him? Or was he just being a jerk, as usual?
It didn’t matter. You had Shinsou lined up, and Bakugou was just Bakugou.
But inside, his spirit felt shattered. Why was it so hard to just admit he wanted to be chosen? Why did he have to play this game when all he wanted was to spend more time with you?
As Bakugou walked away, he realized he couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers. This was his chance to prove himself, not just as a hero but as someone you might actually choose.
He’d find a way to make it happen. No matter what it took.
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Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
‧₊˚tags:
@caaaddddyyy
@fta1ask4
@matchat3a
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12triceratops · 8 months ago
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Where the rubber meets the road.
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These two didn't just have a relationship, they had a (soul)utionship. "The Prophecy" Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle...
What these two had was magical. There is no debate that Karlie Kloss and Taylor Swift were electric: (I am using past tense for the moment, I will refer to them in present tense a bit later in the post)
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Fast forward a decade later to Fortnight. This record did not hit me immediately the way "Folklore" and "Evermore" did, It has almost been a week since its release and I hadn't been fully onboard with TTPD. I was expecting something different, something not familiar and I had quite literally thought maybe Jack Antinoff and Taylor Swift had reached their limit together as collaborators. The music produced by Aaron Dressner had flavors and connections to "Folklore" and "Evermore," while parts of the album was reminiscent of "1989." My next thought that maybe the three of them had done all they could do.
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And then the Matty Healy conversation exploded across the net (le sigh), and I just about gave up on the record.
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I damn near had a sanguinary struggle within myself over The Tortured Poets Department (I know, that is very dramatic lol), and then I finally got it. The brilliance of this woman is unmatched.
The last song "The Manuscript." Now and then she rereads the manuscript Of the entire torrid affair
"The entire torrid affair" meaning the last decade (probably longer, but I am sticking with 2014-2024). The title isn't lost on me and many others - The Man-U-Script.
The last segment of the song
The only thing that's left is the manuscript One last souvenir from my trip to your shores Now and then I reread the manuscript But the story isn't mine anymore
She is closing the chapter on all of it. It's over, the countless theories, the stories we all have created about her. They're our stories now, we built them into a formidable, monstrous entity that took on a life of its own. "The last souvenir" are her words to us on this album. From the Swifities, to the Gaylors/Kaylors, to the haters, critics, industry, fans, media. She won't play this game anymore. Taylor gave enough clues on this album to make EVERYONE'S theory plausible (Karlie, Joe, Matty, Travis, Harry, Kim etc). She connected threads to come full circle, which brings us back to "1989," that 1980s syth-pop (hello! "I Can Do It With A Broken Heart"). This is why she and Jack Antonoff brought us back to where it all began, Karlie Kloss and #Kissgate (Dianna Agron, too, who can forget "Wonderland). Aaron Dressner summons moments within this records of the two albums that fractured my soul, F & E. That folky-pop melody that gets into your skin to change the DNA. No joke, I sobbed listening to "Folklore" and "Evermore."
With TTPD, Taylor comes in like a thrashing, tumultuous storm; at times seething and others admonishing. She is singing to herself, for herself and without need of approval from the mainstream radio (or anyone else). TTPD is messy, too much, not enough, vulnerable, real, relatable and she is tired of our collective shit.
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Back to "The Manuscript" This Era has come to an end and she is leaving us with the ruins, the aftermath of what she went through: being forced to hide who she really is, having to placate the rabid fans who believe the stories of every boy she has ever dated. She has had zero privacy and the only safe place Taylor has ever had was her music, she is the ONLY one who knows to whom she sings. Does she love her fans, of course, but Mother is tired and done. She is ready to come clean and live the life she has crafted to keep in secret in order to protect the innocent.
The beards, NDAs, slight of hand, she is smashing all that we know. It's not her reflection she seeks to shatter, it's the illusions. In "Fortnight" the nurse, a woman (cannot convince me that it's not Karlie. A doorframe is 6'8" and that nurse is about 5" shorter that frame, which would make that person 6'3" :), comes to save her, gives her the key to set her free. The men in the video are the ones who are torturing her. Like the last 10 years, The poet has been tortured by the department of men: Joe, John, Conner, Jake, Harry, Calvin, Tom, Joe, Matty, Travis, Scooter, Scott, and the list goes on.
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It's "Robin" that has got a choke-hold on me.
Buried down deep And out of your reach The secret we all vowed To keep it from you in sweetness
She is singing to a child, a kid, and I am going to say a little boy. Is this song about Levi? I am going to say yes. Hands down the gem of the album, and our cue to realize she is telling us what is next, her family, the loves of her life: Karlie and the kids. That is what she wants and that will be her next chapter. We struggle to interpret the Taylor that is always ten steps ahead of us. Her Eras Tour, this will be the last one for a while. Once it has wrapped, I wouldn't be surprised if she disappeared for a spell. Will she produce more work, sure. Perform, probably, but this last decade has taken a toll, and this tour has been a herculean effort. Hence, its wild success. Could she retire (FLORIDA)? It's possible, but she would never tell us, we would have to figure that out for ourselves.
I have more to say, but it's late and I am sleepy. As I get lost in the piano of "The Manuscript" I am reminded of the book "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo"
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Not sure if anyone is going to see or read this, but I needed a place to write my thoughts about this extraordinary album that I almost let slip through my fingers. Good night and sleep well everyone <3
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sixosix · 1 year ago
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heyooo!! can I request Izuku when his fingers accidentally brush against the readers??? And they grab his hand and he gets all flustered <333 sorry I just can’t get this scenario out of my head!! He’s so silly!! /pos
a/n omf i cant believe my izuku readers r still alive… i havent caught up in the manga since forever so if theres anything wrong, thats why LOL i missed izuku so much T__T, wc 1k
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Izuku is guarding a terrible, terrible secret. One that he wouldn’t even admit if his classmates roped him into an intense game of Truth or Dare, unless drunk, probably. Which will never happen.
Class 1-A Dorms roars with laughter. Izuku swears he can feel the building shaking as the students occupying the vast space of the living room burst into another fit of cackles. The other building could probably hear it, and they’d get a noise complaint the next morning, from 1-B, no less.
They’re watching a movie. Comedy, perhaps; Izuku wasn’t paying much attention when they were picking, but he could pick up the clues of what the characters on screen are saying, his classmates jostling his shoulders as they giggle, and, of course, the same mp3 laugh track that plays for the rest of the film.
Izuku is tucked into the far corner of the couch, squished between Todoroki and Uraraka. Uraraka laughs with her whole body, her head thrown back as she claps in delight. Todoroki laughs once, a huff of amusement, just a curl of his lips.
And on the floor, nestled between where Izuku dutifully keeps his knees spread so as to not hurt, sits you—the whole reason why Izuku is struggling to focus on the movie in the first place.
He’s eternally grateful that keeping the lights dim while watching films is a thing, or else everyone would’ve long noticed his burning face. He looks like a strawberry, and feels like a strawberry left under the sun. Todoroki had cast him a glance, vague amusement playing on his stoic face. Izuku wanted to dig a hole and bury himself in there forever.
“Sorry, Izuku,” you say, loud enough to be heard over the film but quiet enough that it’s only shared between the two of you. He wills his legs not to jump up in surprise. “Can I just lay for a bit? I’m getting kinda sleepy.”
“No problem,” Izuku says after a beat, managing to not fuck up and stammer embarrassingly in front of you. Or should it be behind you?
You tilt your head upward, meeting his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Y-Yes. I mean, you’re welcome.” Dammit.
Izuku breathes a sigh of relief when your attention is promptly stolen by the laugh track, and Kaminari yelps a cackle.
He catches something from the corner of his eye, paling at the sight of a terrifying expression on Uraraka’s face. If devils had round eyes and rounder cheeks, smiling in a way that fits their nature, it would be a picture of evilness Uraraka is portraying at this moment.
He squints inquisitively at her.
Uraraka grins. “Your hand,” she whispers, then does something he can’t quite figure out.
Confused, Izuku shows her his hand, scars and all.
Uraraka looks unimpressed, and Izuku wilts. He can’t hear her properly, with the movie picking up pace and sound effects. Uraraka makes a grand demonstration of splaying her hand and resting it on the crown of her hair, then gestures wildly at your head. 
As soon as understanding dawns on Izuku, his face feels drained of blood, horrified. “No,” he mouths desperately. “No.” Again, for good measure.
“Yes,” she mouths back, taking matters into her own hands by quite literally taking his hand and moving to place it on your head. But he panics and jostles your hands resting on his lap instead.
Izuku pales. The characters in the movie shriek. “Sorry,” he squeaks out, then glares at Uraraka, who’s holding in her laughter.
He heaves a heavy breath when you cast him a curious glance.
“You—Sorry, I, my hand—No, I mean, I didn’t mean to do that,” he blurts uselessly, waving his arms around in a desperate attempt to hide his face, which is surely the same shade as anything red.
What the hell, his brain hisses. Izuku, you idiot, you’ve done it now.
He watches with bated breath as you take his hand instead of laughing at his face. He watches as you lace your fingers with his instead of seeing your face scrunch up in disgust. His heart flutters, threatening to fly off his chest and into the shared warmth of your hands.
Instead, he deflates like a red balloon, his mouth forming words that sound like nitpicking vowels from a series of keyboard smashes.
“I don’t mind,” you say. “Relax. I want you to hold me.”
It’s a little hard to relax when your words float around in his mind like a broken record.
Once the movie ends and the noise subsides, his classmates collectively keep their messes—namely, the thrown popcorn and spilled soda on the carpet—and return to their rooms. But Izuku can’t do that, not when he has a Y/N who is still resting against his lap.
He waves goodbye at Uraraka and Iida, the former making kissy faces and Iida solemnly sending him his prayers.
Izuku resigns himself to his fate, sighing softly. Well, despite everything, he likes the fact that you never once let go of his hand.
“I like your hands,” you say, as if answering his thoughts. Izuku jolts and can’t help it because he thought you were asleep.
“You… do?”
Izuku thinks his hands are ugly, scars running all the way to his shoulders like protruding veins. He hates seeing it.
“I do,” you say, squeezing it tenderly. “I’m glad it’s still together and working after all you’ve done to it. I like them.”
Izuku bites his bottom lip, harsh enough that it’s nearly drawing blood, lest he says something stupid like, ‘I like you’. He doesn’t, thankfully. Yet it’s there, on the tip of his tongue. If you asked him what’s on his mind, he would’ve said it.
But he guards his secret a little while longer and hopes that someday he’ll be able to share it with you.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, finding the courage to squeeze your hand. Much to his delight, you do it back and smile. He’s melting. “Can we, uhm, stay here for a bit?”
You laugh, rising from your position. Izuku nearly panics and holds you down because he doesn’t want to lose this moment just yet. But he finds himself stunned when you settle beside him and rest your head against his shoulder instead. “Sleep,” you say. “We’ll stay here for a bit.”
“O-Okay, yeah,” he whispers, reaching for your hand once more.
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realisticjupiter · 7 months ago
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hi! :D i hope u're doing well !! i was wondering if i could request chishiya x gn reader? where after the borderlands, chishiya faintly remembers the events while reader does not, so reader doesn't know who chishiya is but chishiya knows who they are. they're both admitted in the same hospital after the meteor, and chishiya has to fall in love with reader all over again, "coincidentally" meeting through a hallway and introducing himslef and slowly building a relationship and just AGHGJJAHAH this runs thru my mind a lot !!! ty for even reading this anyway hope u have a great day love u 😘😘😘 and also make sure to stay hydrated, healthy and happy :))
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ꔫ ⸝⸝ summary: chishiya helping reader who is struggling with a snack, and at the same time remembering exactly how the two of them met.
ꔫ ⸝⸝ pairing: chishiya x gn!reader
ꔫ ⸝⸝ genre: fluff
ꔫ ⸝⸝ warnings: mentions of hospital medication , lmk if anything else !
ꔫ ⸝⸝ word count: 1k
A/N: I love this idea sm bc i also think of this a lot LOL. just the idea of chishiya's cookie moto when reader can't find a snack is just special to me -- also I apologize to literally everyone who has sent me a request I TRY I SWEAR IT'S NOT ON PURPOSE
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Your hand pounded on the clear glass that separated you and the snacks inside the vending machine. It had completely eaten your money just for the simple snack you've been craving all day not to fall to the bottom.
It obviously hasn't been a good day for you, but this was just the cherry on top.
Waking up in a hospital with hundreds of bruises and one big gash across your torso wasn't exactly your definition of a good time. You don't even remember how it happened.
In fact, you barely even remember what you did that day. You were walking to the mall? Maybe? It was clearly all a blur.
When he approached you, you almost thought you were hallucinating from all the medication the hospital decided to give you for the pain.
He was almost glowing in the hospital light, like he belonged there like some type of ghost whose soul is trapped inside the building.
"Those cookies aren't very good anyways." Were the words his naturally curved mouth spoke.
Something was off about him, you couldn't tell what it was though. Maybe it was his body language; how his eyes couldn't leave your face and studied your every move. Or maybe the way he spoke; so nonchalant but hard to tell where his social skills lied.
"I've been craving them since I woke up. But, obviously now--It doesn't really matter." You were already irritated, it was clear in your voice when you spoke. You weren't exactly in the mood to make friends.
His eyes looked down, which made yours follow along to the yellow bag that rested in his hand. He reached out to you, letting you see the cookies that sat inside.
"You can have one, if you want." He offered, his eyes watching your face once more.
You couldn't exactly read him, and it was clear that it was his persona. A man who wants to be known as an unsolved mystery. A closed box that couldn't be opened by anyone.
But in this Cheshire man's mind, he felt conflicted; confused. He swore he knew you from somewhere, but he wouldn't dare ask. He'd rather find out from his own mind. He always had a thing for puzzles, but this one felt more complicated than anything he's ever experienced.
You sighed, but with a shrug you dipped your hand into the bag to grab a single cookie. You brought it to your mouth with a crunch and your rating of the snack was written all over your face, and at the same time it almost felt familiar.
He had a good eye, or you guess taste for good snacks. You were almost surprised you've never tried it before, you've always seen it in other places.
"It's good, isn't it?" He raised a brow, a small grin showing on his face.
"Mhm, can I have another one?" You responded mid chew.
He couldn't hold back the soft chuckle as he handed the bag to you, watching as you dove straight in with no questions asked.
"I'm Chishiya, by the way." Chishiya finally introduced himself with his hands shoved into his pockets.
"Y/n." You replied, mouth full of cookies.
He nodded at the sound of your name. It tried to click in his mind, and when it did--it felt like he had just been given some stranger's memories.
He knew now, the borderlands and the person he was stuck with--merely because they were almost smarter than he was. For a second he was confused, concerned and almost convinced he was remembering an old dream.
It wouldn't be the first time he mistook a dream for reality, but he knew this time was different. In dreams there were no names or faces, but your face, the person standing in front of him wasn't just a dream. And nor were the memories he continued to remember.
"Do you... know me?" He asked, his tone unsure as if he was asking a foreign question.
You looked at him with a confused stare, looking him up and down and then studying his face--but none of it clicked.
"No, I don't think so." You shook your head, handing him the bag just for there to only be one left inside.
You gave an apologetic smile when he took it back, but somehow he didn't mind. Mostly because he had bigger things to think about.
Like how the person he told he loved doesn't remember him. It was almost funny when he thought about it that way, but it was honestly sad.
But when he thought about it another way, like how he may have a second chance with you. It felt different, like the god whom he never really believed in decided to grant him the good karma he wasn't so sure he deserved.
He couldn't care less though, the only thing he wanted from his experience in the borderlands was a second chance; and now he has it.
"Shouldn't you be resting? Your injuries seem worse than others." Chishiya tried to keep the conversation, although it almost sounded like he was trying to end it.
You shook your head, "Mm-mm. Doctor said to walk around, to stretch my legs." You explained, crossing your arms to shield yourself from the cold breeze of the hospital.
"Want to take a walk then? We can go outside, I know you aren't exactly fond of hospitals." He suggested, crushing the bag in his hand to stuff inside his pocket.
You stopped for a second, furrowing your brows and opening your mouth. "Uh--sure. But, how did you know that?" Your mouth shaped into a smile because it genuinely freaked you out a bit. He made it sound as if he knew you forever.
"Lucky guess." His response was quick as he turned and began walking. You hesitated at first, but soon followed after him as he passed a girl who pushed an older woman in a wheelchair and an older man following a bit behind them.
Maybe now was a good time to admit you felt like you had seen him before as well. But you couldn't think of where, so you convinced yourself you were crazy.
But what wasn't crazy, was thinking you had a chance with this Cheshire man. He made you comfortable in a way you couldn't understand, and weren't exactly sure if you wanted to.
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reposts and comments are appreciated <3
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polydamnory · 6 days ago
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Poly D.A.M.N. Crew Headcanons (because I’m legally required to)
Once again, some of these could also apply outside the context of them being in a polycule and that works too lol
Freelancer will paint any of the others nails if they’ll let them (Hux and Gavin let them do it the most) 
Dear and Gavin made it a weekly thing to have lunch together on campus 
In the event that they were to all live together, Damien is usually the one in charge of  grocery shopping - mainly because of all of them, he’s the most particular about what brands they use for certain products/foods. Also you can’t tell me this man isn’t a master at budgeting/couponing. 
Damien and Huxley aren’t allowed to team up when they do chicken fights in the pool anymore - they’re both arguably some of the strongest of the group (they’re constantly working out after all) and after winning literally every time except against Gavin, the rest of them declared the rule that they have to team up with the others to make it fair. Hux just rolled with it but Damien still acts all cocky about it whenever it gets brought up. 
They try to do a movie night every two weeks and cycle through who gets to pick what they watch each time. Lasko made a chart to track it and everything. Lasko has also tried and succeeded only once in getting everyone to agree to a full on Lord of the Rings extended edition marathon despite trying again several times afterwards. Dear has been the only one to agree to do it again afterwards - not that the rest don’t like the movies, they just don’t think they’ll be willing to marathon them like that again. 
Gavin and Freelancer are the resident “distractors” and get kicked out of the kitchen fairly frequently because half the time they’re helping cook they end up “doing things” with the other person in there 👀
Huxley likes playing with the others hair if they’ve given the okay for it - he already knew how to braid and the like, but at some point he began learning how to do more complicated hairstyles and likes doing them for his partners 
Dear and Damien end up having to team up and ensure everyone else is wearing sunblock - Damien does not listen to Gavin when he says that as a demon he doesn’t need it, he has to put some on 
When struggling to find someone or something out in public, especially in large crowd, Huxley has gotten into the habit of just kind of grabbing one of his partners and putting them on his shoulder so they can get a higher vantage point 
Huxley came up with the idea that they should all show Gavin stuff they enjoyed from growing up, whether that be shows, movies, or going places typically meant for youths, because “just because you didn’t actually have a childhood doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get to experience one.” They took him to a bouncy castle park and got a good laugh at how uncharacteristically ungraceful he was. 
They all had to basically flee an ice skating rink when they all tried to go together. Gavin wouldn’t stop teasing/flustering Damien and he accidentally melted a portion of the rink. It was an unempowered run rink so the chance of them getting caught/blamed wasn’t too high but they all still ended up fleeing like their lives depended on it. 
They are all constantly stealing Huxley’s clothes to wear. It’d bother him if he didn’t think it was really hot to see them in it.
They've been trying to branch out in the types of games they play together and one genre they’ve been experimenting with is survival games. They’ve tried a few but the one they all seem to like the most is Raft and it gets chaotic. It’s not a strict rule or anything but they’ve also all sort of fell into their own unspoken roles for it: Huxley is always the go to for gathering supplies on islands, Damien’s typically either doing home defense or off trying to kill one of the hostile mobs (the poison-puffer always drives him crazy), Dear’s gathering the underwater supplies because obviously, Freelancer is in charge of gardening and cooking the food, Lasko’s on a hundred different websites and wikis making sure they don’t miss anything/actually know what they’re doing as well as navigation, and while Gavin spends most of his time pretty evenly helping everybody else out, he most often is gathering the supplies from the water, or, on occasion, fishing. (Sorry not sorry that this one only really makes sense to those who also play Raft/watch others play it lol)
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shima-draws · 9 months ago
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WOO HOO EZIO'S HERE 👏
As always more info about him under the cut <3
Name: Ezio
Age: 27
Hair color: White
Eye color: Red
Element: None
Ezio's a runaway who cast off his life as a noble and is now adventuring freely with Nahu and co.! He was never one for the stuffy upper class life he grew up in, and has been trying to outrun his legacy for ages. Nahu and the others don't even know he's from a high class society and when they do find out, needless to say they are shocked because Ezio was the LAST person they expected among all of them to have a fancy shmancy background.
It's not something he necessarily tries to keep secret; he just views it as something that's not part of him anymore. However he still does have ties to that world--there's a girl he grew up with and who is a close friend of his that he's actually engaged to. Neither of them want anything to do with the engagement, and said friend was more than encouraging when it came to Ezio cutting ties with his status and running off.
Ezio's extremely independent and self-sufficient! He knows very well how to handle himself in most aspects of life. He's also very stoic and quiet most of the time, preferring actions over words. When it comes to combat he's one of the strongest members of the team, being an expert at sword wielding and hand-to-hand. Considering he's a non-elemental that's pretty impressive.
He's also stupidly loyal and ridiculously self sacrificial (but like, most of the group are too so he's not special in that regard. LMAO) He's got a very unhealthy attachment to Nahu and probably needs to go to therapy. Ezio will put Nahu above everybody else, no matter what the situation, even if he has to betray other members of the group. He is the definition of Ride or Die. (He cares about them tho of course!! He loves them all very much, Nahu's just his top priority in all cases.) He's down BAD for Nahu and everybody knows it except for Nahu :)))) Main reasoning behind this stems from the fact that Nahu was probably the first person Ezio met that was actually genuine and not plastic and fake like all the people he grew up around. Nahu beat up some people hired to bring Ezio home and then smiled at him one (1) time and that was IT. He was done for. He will now die for Nahu and follow him to the ends of the earth. End of story
(This comes back to bite him in the ass later bc Nahu uhhh disappears for Reasons™ and Ezio spirals HARD. Cue him going off on his own and disregarding the rest of the squad bc he literally cannot fathom living without Nahu. Again. THERAPY)
Ezio's actually a shockingly good dancer, too (dance lessons growing up), but he adamantly refuses to dance with anybody who can't keep up with him. Which is basically most of the group. The only person who can is Ione, because of her idol background. Everyone is jealous of her for this. LOL
He's also fluent in multiple languages (again, noble background) including sign language, so he and Sage are the only ones capable of communicating with Ione for a while until they teach everyone else :"D
Due to his upbringing he's uhh. Emotionally constipated lol. It's definitely a learning curve for him trying to actually show his feelings and be truthful about them. This is something he generally struggles with but luckily he's got the best group of friends anybody could ask for who support him through everything. EVEN his simping 😂
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perseephoneee · 1 year ago
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ask me to dance? [isaac lahey x f!reader]
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request: can you do some wholesome isaac content?
warnings: pure fluff. teenagers being awkward.
a/n: me? remembering to write? shocker. literally struggled with this lol but i'm here and i'm trying to write more in order to be a productive member of society. also i'm so in love with Isaac it's not funny *cries*
↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?
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It never really got cold in Beacon Hills, considering it was located in California. Still, when temperatures started to fall to a mild climate, it signaled to the teen population that winter was fast approaching. And with that came Winter Ball. Which is all you've been able to think about. 
To anyone who would ask, it wasn't that big of a deal– but you secretly thought about it. All the outfits, the decorations, the romanticism of it all. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in you, especially as someone who has never had a date. It used to not bother you; you were happily involved in your studies or worrying about being murdered by a supernatural at any time. But then you started spending more time with a certain werewolf and thought it wouldn't be that bad to care about that stuff. 
"Do you think Scott is going to ask me?" Kira said, scaring you out of your thoughts as you closed your locker. You took in the dark-haired female beside you, her eyes questioning and fingers tapping her books. "Will I have to ask him?"
"He'll ask you," you sighed. "He trips over his shoelaces every time he walks down the hall."
"Maybe he didn't tie them well?" Kira looked down the hall as if the boy in question would show up. 
"He likes you," you sent a small smile. Kira relaxed slightly, loosening her shoulders before facing you with a questioning glance. 
"Do you have anyone to go to the dance with?" Kira inquired, plain curiosity in her eyes. You knew, though, that she wanted more info on if you liked anyone. Even with her as a good friend, you rarely discussed those feelings with anyone. Usually, you were the one everyone else confided in. 
"Might not even go," you averted your eyes as Kira slapped your arm lightly. 
"You have to go!" Kira begged. "I can't go alone if Scott asks me."
"Kira, you won't be alone if you go with Scott." She silenced you again with a sharp look. 
"You know what I mean," Kira sighed. "I just don't want you to shy away from something you might enjoy. Especially when I am certain some eligible young bachelor or bachelorette would be interested in going with you."
You pressed your back into your locker, looking down at your scuffed shoes rather than the girl beside you. You glanced up when you caught sight of Scott and Isaac in your peripheral vision. Kira grew still as she saw Scott shuffling closer to you to hide. You tried shoving her, but the kitsune was an immovable rock as Scott and Isaac got closer. You saw Scott's eyes light up as he caught sight of Kira, and you wanted to smile when Kira's cheeks deepened. You made it a point to not stare at Isaac next to him, even if you really liked the blue sweater he was wearing. It's purely observational, with no lurking feelings behind it. 
"Hey guys," Scott smiled, holding his backpack straps like a kindergartener on the first day of school. "Whatcha guys up to?"
"Talking about the dance," you answered right as Kira tried to pass your prior conversation off as nothing. She shot you an angry look, but you hid the smile on your face as Scott perked up. "Kira wants to go but worries about not having a date." The look Kira shot you could be akin to being burned in the seventh circle of Hell, but you knew that your fair-weathered friend would've spent the whole time pondering if Scott liked her rather than making a move. 
"I don't have a date either," Scott grimaced, trying to pass off as a smile. Kira visibly perked up, and you and Isaac barely hid smiles. "Maybe we can go together?" 
The glee that overtook Kira's eyes was radiant, and she nodded enthusiastically. "I would love that," Kira grinned. 
"Great," Scott beamed. "Can I walk you to class?"
Kira grabbed her books, sending you a look that said, "We'll talk later," while happily following the alpha wolf. You turned towards Isaac, feeling your heart start pitter-patter as he made eye contact with you. He gave you a shy smile, fidgeting with the books. 
"They seem happy," you sighed, trying to break whatever tension you imagined. 
"I'm glad it worked out," Isaac said, his steel blue eyes connecting to yours. "Scott was getting annoying."
"So was Kira," you slyly smiled. "What about you?" Isaac looked at you inquisitively. "Are you…going to the dance?"
"I don't think so," he mumbled, averting his eyes briefly. You felt your heart sink in disappointment. Luckily, you were spared a response with the bell ringing. 
"See you around, Lahey," you smiled jokingly, trying to brush off any lingering feelings you had. You turned on your heel and walked off towards the direction of US History. You barely paid attention in class, though, your thoughts consumed with the micro-interaction by your locker. You didn't like Isaac, right? You just were disappointed a good friend wouldn't be there at a dance you might not even be attending. Totally rational feelings. At least that was the mantra you kept repeating till the end of the school day. 
You managed to keep most Winter Ball-related thoughts at bay for the rest of the week while you helped the pack deal with whatever issue. Sometimes, it felt like you guys lived in a CW show with a villain of the week, but somehow, fighting and scheming became part of your routine. You would never admit it to anyone, but you did enjoy the research portion of your problems. Even if it was you and Stiles eating pizza in his room while staring at way too many red strings. It made you feel wanted in a way that you haven't before. By the end of the week, though, the only research you were doing was for a class project. You were already debating when you could (reasonably) quit for the night and curl up with some Netflix or Hulu. Your phone rang by the fifth academic journal, and you glanced to see Lydia's name lighting up the screen. 
"Hello," you said, setting your phone on speaker. 
"Dress shopping tomorrow. Are you in or out?" Lydia asked on the other line. 
"For what?"
"Winter Ball, obviously," Lydia scoffed, the sound of rustling clothes in the background telling you she was going through her closet. "The fact I've waited this long when it's two weeks out is actually ridiculous, but with our life, I guess it's not surprising."
"I might not even go, Lyds."
"Don't be like that," Lydia sighed on the other line. "What's holding you back?"
"Kind of lame to go to a dance without a date," you mumbled, shrinking back into your chair. Maybe if you curled up in a ball and became a turtle, no one would ever ask things of you again. 
"All of your friends will be there, and most girls will probably ditch their dates anyway," Lydia chimed. "And besides, who cares? I don't have a date either, and I'm still going."
"I thought you were going with Stiles."
"In a completely work-related situation," Lydia coughed, even as you rolled your eyes. "He knows that."
"I'm sure he'll figure it out by the tenth corsage he buys you," you snickered.
"Just come tomorrow; Kira is joining. We'll get dresses, lattes, and have a day where werewolves don't intrude." You bit the inside of your cheek, staring at your laptop screen as the words melted into mush in your brain. You could at least hang out, even if you didn't buy anything. 
"I will come," you amended, almost hearing Lydia's excitement from the phone. "I won't promise that I'll buy anything."
"Grab you at 11 a.m., be ready," Lydia chimed, hanging up the phone. You sighed and put your head in your arms, wondering what you got yourself into. 
It was a reminder that waking up by 10 a.m. was a struggle for you. You barely dragged yourself out the door as Lydia spammed your phone, pleading for your coffee as you slid into the car. Kira laughed at you as you curled up in a ball and muttered about sweet death taking you soon. Lydia drove up to the coffee place, an ivy-strewn brick building called Cafe Allegro, and you bolted out of the car and through the doors. The smell of roasting coffee beans and the whir of the espresso machines welcomed you like a blanket on a cold night, and you wondered if you could ask that when you die, it could be in a pile of coffee beans. You ordered your latte, not having to wait long to get your order as you stood off the side, inhaling the fresh scent. Having been absorbed in your calm, you didn't notice the boy standing next to you. 
"You are really into your coffee," Isaac remarked, scaring you out of your stupor. You made a pathetic yelp, grimacing as a chuckle escaped his lips. 
"It's too early."
"It's almost noon."
"Too early," you sighed, sipping the heavenly goodness in your hand. "Why are you here?" 
"Scott and Stiles dragged me to the suit rental place and told me they didn't want me left alone to wallow or something like that," Isaac laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a heather gray henley today that you were enjoying and trying your hardest not to notice. "If it's so early, why are you here?"
"Similar reason. Lydia and Kira dragged me dress shopping," you glanced up at him before looking around the shop and realizing that your comrades were hiding on the opposite side. Annoyingly leaving you with the person who gives you immense jitters. 
"Do you think you'll get a dress?" Isaac inquired. 
"Not sure why, don't have a good reason to," you mumbled, staring at your cup. Gosh, your heart was beating fast, and your stomach hurt. Maybe you should've gotten something calming like herbal tea. 
"You should get one," Isaac coughed, looking visibly uncomfortable. For a second, you worried that you were annoying him. "You would look…pretty."
"Thanks," your cheeks burned. "Then, you should get a suit." You swallowed, feeling like your head was in a whirlpool. Isaac's eyes looked at you with something akin to interest, but you passed it off as your caffeine-filled hallucinations. 
"We should go to the dance together," Isaac said quickly, tensing slightly as he awaited your reaction. Your eyes widened, and you had to remember what solid ground felt like as his words sank in. 
"I would like that very much," you breathed. Isaac's demeanor softened, relief flooding his eyes. He bit his lip to stifle his grin, which was the worst mistake he could've made as now all you were focusing on was his lips. "Gotta go," you announced, bolting from him before he could say anything else or before you jumped him at a coffee shop. You made it to Lydia and Kira and dragged them out of the door, not bothering to look back for fear of embarrassment. Lydia had mild complaints, but mostly, Kira gave you a knowing look. 
"Is there a reason for this rush?" Kira asked, eyebrows lifted in question. 
"I need a dress," you said. Lydia and Kira shared a grin and you knew there was a specific reason they left you with Isaac in the cafe. You wanted to strangle them and kiss them for it. 
The ride to the dress shop was short, but the anxiety building like a knot in your stomach persisted long after. Isaac asked you to the dance. He asked you for some unknown reason. You guys were friends and occasionally worked together. Still, you struggled to have a conversation before that didn't end with you saying something weird and making it awkward. You used to chalk it up to just not having common interests. Still, if you admitted the truth to yourself, you would know it's because you had a giant raging crush on the werewolf. Words were not in your vocabulary around him. 
Entering the dress shop (a cute place called Laura Jane's Boutique), you were suddenly reminded why you didn't really want to go in the first place. You love pretty things, but the over-glitzy dresses and jumpsuits are not your style. At least Kira looked as out of place as you. Lydia led the charge, though, immediately saying "no" to many dresses on the rack and holding up some options for you and Kira. You did love it, though, Lydia caring enough to try and find the perfect dress for her friends. It made you feel wanted. 
You wandered into one of the back sections, skipping the colors you would never wear. What was Isaac's favorite color? Maybe that's the color of dress you should go with. Your inner voice told you it shouldn't matter what color you wear. Not just because you value your independence but because Isaac would love it either way. 
You pushed some dresses aside on one of the racks, stopping at a shorter-length dress. It had bell sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. It was simple but not understated, and you loved it. 
You went home that night feeling like you were on a cloud. Except, like all good things, your crippling insecurities had to rear its ugly head and make you start questioning everything. Laying in your bed, the dress still in its tissue-wrapped bag, you stared at the ceiling, debating what had happened. What if Isaac only asked you to the dance because it was convenient? Or worse, he was asked to by someone like Scott or Lydia? He probably didn't like you at all. Why would he? You were human. Unremarkable. 
Vibrations could be felt in your head as your phone rang, and you begrudgingly grabbed at it without checking the caller ID. "Hello?" you grumbled.
"Hey," the tenor voice said from over the phone. "Can I come over?" 
"Isaac?" you asked, sitting up in your bed. "Is everything okay?" Oh my gosh, was he hurt? Or rescinding his previous offer of the dance.
"I just want to see you," he breathed. "Is this a bad time?"
"Never," you answered quickly. "You can come over."
Ten minutes later, of anxious pacing in your room, you got a text from Isaac saying he had arrived. You ran downstairs to open the door, slightly winded from the rush. Isaac's face was illuminated by your porch lights, and all you could think about was how pretty he was. 
"Hi," you spoke, looking up at him.
"Hi," Isaac smiled, "can I come in?" Nodding, you opened the door further so the golden-haired werewolf could enter. You gestured for him to follow, leading him to your room for privacy. You started to regret that decision when you realized that you had invited someone you were interested in into your bedroom. This was the plot of a bad romance novel. 
"What brings you to my humble abode?" you inquire, twirling to face him.
"I came to check on you," Isaac glanced around your bedroom, smiling faintly at your posters on the wall. You watched his eyes catch on your corkboard, where a photo of the two of you at Derek's loft is in prime display. It was after saving the day, and Stiles had bought multiple tubs of ice cream to celebrate. Derek demanded why this "celebration" had to be at his place. However, Stiles had never once listened to Derek's complaints and hosted it anyway. You loved that picture and that memory. 
"Check on me? I'm not in danger again, am I?" you smile, sitting on your bed and subconsciously grabbing one of your stuffed animals. 
"Kira was over to see Scott and mentioned you might be 'spiraling into oblivion,'" Isaac turned to you, quoting Kira's words. Sometimes, you wondered if that girl was telepathic with how well she knew you. 
"Maybe a little," you mumbled, fidgeting with your fluffy friend. Isaac hesitantly sat next to you on the bed, his weight causing you to sink closer to him. 
"Can I ask why, or should I just infer?" he chimed, grabbing another stuffed friend you have and twirling it around. It was a blue chicken from a video game you play, with a cute pink gizzard and round body. "I like this one."
"Do tell," you chuckled, watching him squish the chicken plush. 
"It's squishy," he muttered, patting it on the head before setting it carefully beside him. Your heart wanted to burst at the small interaction. 
"I was worried about the dance," you responded, answering his previous question. He gave you a sidelong glance, asking you to elaborate. "I don't know why you asked me."
"I like you."
"Like me, or like me?" you whispered, barely able to get your voice heard. Unfortunately, Isaac is sitting next to you and has a werewolf hearing, so he didn't miss a thing. He hesitantly grabbed the stuffed animal from your fidgeting hands, putting it aside before carefully holding your hand in his own. 
"I think you're amazing," he smiled, looking at you with eyes the color of a lakeshore. "So yes, I like you."
"I like you too," you breathed, a smile gripping your lips. "When did you get good at socializing?"
Isaac laughed, still holding your hand as he absentmindedly traced shapes on your knuckles. "Had lots of time to practice conversations while trapped in a freezer."
"You need therapy."
"Probably," he laughed, grinning at you before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your breath caught in your throat as he looked at you. "Can I kiss you?" 
You barely managed a nod, your heart thumping loudly in your chest as Isaac kissed your lips. It was soft and somewhat hesitant, like he didn't want you to run away afterward. You boldly deepened the kiss, as it felt like water filled your ears and a marching band played in your heart. The hand he wasn't holding you used to capture his face, his free hand lightly gripping the outside of your thigh. It wasn't fireworks but an ocean at high tide with waves crashing against the shore. And you didn't mind it one bit; you hated fireworks anyway. When Isaac did pull away, his breath was warm against your lips, and you had to remember to let out a shaky breath before you hyperventilate. Isaac kissed your cheek, pulling back to look at you with pure adoration on his face. 
Kissing him again was pure bliss, and you couldn't help but look at him with awe. You weren't sure how you were granted something this good when you've spent your whole life dreaming of something worth half of this. Still, you wouldn't exchange it for anything. It meant you got to spend Winter Ball with the most handsome boy on the dance floor. 
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