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#overall a fun knit
gardenvarietycrafts · 11 months
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Pincha Shawl/Scarf
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I have a trip this weekend, so in an effort to save the Dustland shawl for my travel project, I cast on the pincha shawl/scarf in a bamboo/cotton blend that was a gift. I've been looking for a project for this yarn since I received it, but either it wouldn't work with the texture (it's not very warm) or I wouldn't have quite enough yarn for it, but it should make a nice light wrap to add a pop of color. So far, it's a very fun pattern full of short rows, and I'm loving the way the colors of the yarn are pooling with the way the feathers are made.
Yarn is Bamboo Pop in the Tribe colorway
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annieminx · 1 year
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I don't think I've ever posted about him here yet but hey, I'm feeling like showing my little baby now since I've found some pretty pics while searching for stuff to delete
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Revolutionary Army Punk AU
Ft: Luffy (not punk)
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Steampunk is cool but i think just straight up punk would be cooler. I just think what they stand for lines up a lot better
Design notes:
I did some research and talked to a punk friend of mine for these as i am not a punk, myself, and I dont want to look like a poser. I think i did a really good job translating them and i want to explain my thoughts!
Sabo was first, of course.
I not only wanted to make the characters punk, but i also wanted to crank their designs up about 20 notches, so i gave Sabo’s scar one hell of an upgrade. In this version I tried to make it very clear that that cannon ball hit him head-on. I think it works really well with his punk vibes because under-cuts and shaved parts of the head in general are very popular in punk culture.
I largely tried to keep the silhouettes the same with this au, and It was really easy to keep it with Sabo because of the fact that he already has a lot of design elements that translate well to punk. His big pants into tall boots were perfect to translate, crust pants and steel toed boots fits him well. Trench coats arent a staple in Punk, but i couldnt take the coats away from him… him or Belo. They deserve it…
I threw away his cravat for a choker, i replaced his vest with a red tank top and his undershirt for fishnets, Patches up the wazoo, he looks very cool.
Belo Betty was next, she was super easy to translate. She’s already in the punk spirit with her tits out, we love to see it. Her hat was really difficult to translate, along with all the other hats, but a red knitted hat that has those two points cuz it’s essentially a scarf sewed together looks nice on her.
My punk friend suggested i give her a bunch of nets and harnesses and i really agreed that was her style, so i gave her red tie to Morley, slapped some harnesses on her and just overall just turned her sexy up like 50 notches. I think i was clever how i adapted her striped stockings here with how they have runs in them.
Karasu is almost the exact same. I just threw out his dinky little cravat and gave him a bandana and harness. I also gave him piercings. That’s the only difference. In the words of my Punk friend “hes naked and wearing a spiked mask, He can hang”
Speaking of what my punk friend said, he said that Lindbergh would get “demolished” in the pit, and that he looks like he’s scared of bees. The consensus was that he couldn’t hang. But also i still had to make him punk, so then he suggested CBGB punks:
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Redneck, bluegrass, southern american punks. I was really in a rut with his design, I didn’t know what to do to keep the silhouette of his backpack. But everything changed when I chance got the idea of a guitar. And then everything flowed from there
Morley was really really fun. Punk friend suggested i make him Pop Punk, inspired by this pic
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Mainly Lindsey way with this plaid skirt and tie
He was so so fun to draw, i love his fucked up eyes.
For dragon, i didnt change much at all, even though it’s only his bust that’s shown. Imagine everything is the same, except now he has piercings. Dragon isnt concerned with the punk fashion, but the punk cause.
For Luffy, I wasnt trying to make him punk, but he felt a bit plain looking like base Luffy next to punk Sabo, so i just did the “turn design up 20 notches”, and just gave him a more visibly tattered hat, bangles and waist beads.
That’s about it! Ive been getting a lot of comments and asks lately saying that you guys like when i go on my design explanations, and i realized that i didnt do that for the last few AU’s, so i thought id type this up :)
Thank you for reading!
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morikittie · 2 months
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Ideal Type
Characters included: Suna, Kenma, Tsukishima, Oikawa, Kuroo, Ushijima, Atsumu, Bokuto
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Suna ୨୧
He wouldn’t mind if you were the same height as him or shorter than him, but he wouldn’t like if you were taller than him imo. He likes to tease you so someone easy going or someone who just goes with the flow. Someone who can just sit and chill with him in silence would be perfect for him. Someone who had a bit more meat on them would also be perfect for him, i feel like he finds comfort in just laying on you.
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Kenma ୨୧
I feel he would love someone extroverted but not a loud person. Someone motherly and easily lovable would be perfect for him. He would need someone to remind him to do certain things because he easily forgets. He wouldn’t really care about what you looked like, but he would love if you were into coloring hair. An alternative kind of person would be perfect for him.
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Tsukishima ୨୧
He’s 100% into nerdy girls, no doubt about that. Girls with glasses are such a turn on for him, he loves it. I feel like he wouldn’t care too much about height because no matter what he’s going to be taller than you. I feel like he’s also into the quiet clingy type. It just makes him feel so much better about himself. Like yea they only really talk to me.
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Oikawa ୨୧
Smart popular girls that are secretly losers. Like yea you have an obsession with scps and collect everything minion themed. He would love a girl with some sas and someone willing to tell him off when he’s being conceited. He just wants someone who supports him and isn’t trying to use him. I feel with Oikawa, if he finds you pretty, he finds you pretty, he doesn’t have an exact look that he’s into.
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Kuroo ୨୧
He would love someone smart, he thinks it’s so attractive. He’s desperate for a girl with long hair. Overall someone that’s similar to him, someone who knows how to have fun but serious when need be. He loves chubby girls too. He can’t keep his eyes to himself, 100% a leg guy too.
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Ushijima ୨୧
Ushijima needs someone that’s shows him how to let loose. He loves someone who can joke with him and someone he can have a real conversation with. He wouldn’t really care about physical attributes at all. If he likes you, he likes you. Ask him about his interest and he will get on his knees for you, he loves when someone asks him about himself.
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Atsumu ୨୧
He’s into chubby girls 100%. I will die on this hill, he needs a chubby girl. He just finds them so cute. I also feel he loves short girls, you can’t be taller than him or the same height, it would make him feel bad about himself. I feel like he’s into girls that have cute lil hobbies like baking, knitting or reading.
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Bokuto ୨୧
Someone who can match his energy would be perfect for him. He just wants someone who just needs to have fun all the time. He would love if you were supportive of him, going to all his games and cheering for him. I also feel like he would love if you played a sport too, it doesn’t matter what it is, he’d love for you to teach him it and him teach you volleyball.
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chuluoyi · 11 months
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Could you do a brother’s best friend!Megumi x reader?
like her brother being overprotective, but being oblivious of his best friend’s crush on her sister?
(not the) best kept secret
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
cool, brooding and handsome. your crush on your brother's best friend is a secret you only keep to yourself. little do you know, he too feels the same. and so, your love story—and the trials and tribulations that come with it—begins.
genre/warnings: college au, reader being yuji's little sister and him and your family being protective, fluff, mutual pining, tiny weeny angst if you squint? with happy ending ofc!
notes: awww anon, this ask is so cute and so hidden love-coded! did you watch hidden love too? because this piece draws inspiration from that ehe. and uh it turned out longer than i expected and i haven't proofread it but pls enjoy!
general masterlist
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You have had a crush on your brother’s best friend, Megumi, for a while now.
Actually, scratch that. For a long time now, since you were in middle school, in fact.
In your eyes, he was really cool. He was reserved and not very talkative, which was a stark contrast to your brother Yuji, who could talk a mile a minute every day. It always baffled you why the two could be bosom friends.
And he treated you well. Megumi may have bonked Yuji’s head at any given chance, but with you, he was different. He was gentler, kinder, and overall just considerate. Sometimes he would even pick you up in your brother’s place, and your heart would beat out of your chest from sheer giddiness.
Little did you know, he too didn’t quite see you as a mere sister of his friend.
It started with head pats. You heart would flutter and he would be more conscious of his actions. Yuji had furrowed an righteous eyebrow at the sight.
“Oi, Fushiguro, that’s some favoritism there!” he whined. “I helped you with homework and what did I get—”
“Shut up, Itadori.”
And then the text messages. You didn’t know how or why you ended up texting him on daily basis. He was the one who texted you first a few months ago, having obtained your number from a mutual friend in your circle to ask about the best gift for Yuji’s birthday. And somehow up until now, you found yourselves telling him how your day went, and he the same.
you: i've just finished my class today. so tired megumi: oh? mine is still in session. quite boring you: i see. well, ganbatte!
Those little interactions made your day, and for now, you were quite satisfied with them. But when your phone buzzed once again, signaling a new text, you couldn't resist the urge to swiftly open the messaging app to expect the expected.
megumi: wanna grab lunch later?
It was so incredibly childish, but you felt like winning.
Lunch invitations were often. You spent the whole duration of lunch with him almost every day at this point. The two of you talked about many mundane things, and he would have this small smile whenever you griped about your hard tests or annoying classmates.
Head pats. Texts. Lunches.
And then there was Nobara.
Now, don't get me wrong. You adored her—she was a fun person, pretty and you even looked up to her as your role model at some point. If Yuji somehow ended up with her, you were sure to give them 200% of your blessings.
But seeing her with Megumi was another story. Sometimes you envied your brother's close knit group of three. They had been friends since middle school, and it was granted that Nobara would spend a whole load of time with both your brother and Megumi. With Yuji, she was harsher and didn't take him seriously, but you couldn't deny what your peers had been whispering and what you yourself found very plausible—she and Megumi would make a fine match.
It wasn't your intention at all, but ever since you saw him and Nobara at the toy shop together, pulling for popular merchandises in gacha box, you started losing confidence in yourself and inadvertently put this distance between you and him.
At first it was subtle, Megumi didn't even realize it. But when your replies were few and far in between, he decided it was time to address the problem.
"You don't answer my texts," he stated one day, barely catching you at campus during the lunchtime. Now that he thought about it, you kept denying his lunch invitations too. "Are you avoiding me?"
"I, um," you stuttered. You didn't anticipate running into him, to be honest, and so you were at loss of words. "It isn't like that..."
Megumi figured that he had done something to make you feel like you should avoid him, but he didn't want the two of you to be in this awkward situation any longer, so he led you away from the crowd to your usual place of hanging out after lunch—the rooftop.
"Have I done something?" he asked warily. "It's okay, you can tell me."
"No, Megumi, I—"
"I don't want us to be like—this," Megumi said, his face contorting with a deep frown. "I don't like it at all."
Typically, he regarded friendships as a pain, but not with you. Not with the girl he had been pining over for who knows how long now.
Yuji's sister. He had to remind himself of that fact so many times and yet his heart didn't seem to get it. You were his best friend's dearest sister, and yet he fell for you regardless. If Yuji knew, he would definitely had some opinions on this.
And so for the last few months, he kept it hidden under his sleeves. He approached you, befriended you, took you out on lunch dates—acting on his growing feelings for you and yet he didn't have the courage to confess still.
But enough was enough. If not confessing meant losing you altogether, then he was willing to take the risk. At the very least, if you did reject him, he would have gone down with a fight.
"Y/N, I don't know if you're already aware of this or not, but..." he gulped. Apparently this wasn't as easy as he thought, especially when you met his gaze with your cutely confused ones.
"I have feelings for you. I... like you, quite much."
His voice was clear, without any hint of doubt. You were taken aback and widened your eyes out of surprise.
"You do...?" you shyly asked him back, finding it hard to believe. Fushiguro Megumi, the boy you've been crushing on since you were 15, when you were only able to hide behind Yuji and saw him from afar. The boy who once was indifferent to you, was now confessing his feelings for you? He liked you back in the same way you liked him?
"I do," he replied with clarity, and then a smile. That small smile that always made your insides do somersaults. "I want to ask you out for a while now, but since well... you know... out of consideration for your brother, I felt like I couldn't simply whisk you away."
To his surprise, you laughed, and Megumi found himself breathless. The way you laugh was so mesmerizing in his eyes, reminding him why he could fall in love with you in the first place.
"I like you too, Megumi."
And that was all he needed. Apparently that confirmation was enough to forget that you were the sister of his long-time friend, and that it was fine even if you were. After all, since when was it a crime to romance your best friend's sister?
Still, you two decided to keep it under the wraps first. Springing this on Yuji would startle him, you reasoned, and he agreed. It was more convenient this way anyways.
Your relationship with Megumi was a happy one. He was curt, but never failed to look out for you. He remembered things you liked, and would take you out on places you wanted to go. Arguments were there—granted, sometimes he was just too stubborn, so you may have a clash of opinions—but in the end, the two of you always managed to work it out.
But there was always something melancholic in Megumi that you weren't sure you could touch at all. Perhaps it was due to his upbringing—his incomplete family. You tried to fill that gap, giving him many fun and happy memories, hoping it would replace his sad ones. He was grateful for that.
Nonetheless, the reality persisted that your brother, Yuji, remained completely oblivious to all of this. Yuji still thought that you were his innocent younger sister, and Megumi was his best bro. Sometimes you felt bad to do all this behind his back, and yet you made no move to rectify it.
“Hey, let’s ask Fushiguro to join too!” Yuji would say, and you would agree. And then, in front of him, you and Megumi would refrain from being too friendly, and he would be none the wiser.
All things have karma. You have built your karma too, for deceiving your kind and sweet brother.
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"Fushiguro! How could you?!"
When Yuji's fist collided with his jaw, honestly Megumi had given up on fighting back, because one, there was no chance of winning against him, and two, your scream pierced the air, filled with worry for him.
You two just had to be found out in the worst way possible—while making out. It was wrong in so many levels in the first place. Why and how did you even initiate making out in your house that you shared with your brother?
"It could've been anyone," Yuji fumed with anger, his teeth clenching. "Anyone at all! And yet it has to be Y/N—my own sister! Fushiguro, have you ever considered the magnitude of betrayal this is to me?"
"Yuji! Please stop!" you tried to intervene. "He's not at wrong—it was me who—"
"No, you don't get any say in this!" for the first time, you saw your kind brother got angry and it made you quiver in fear. Yuji had never been angry, not to you. "You too, Y/N. How could do this behind my back? The least you could do is telling me!"
"I'm an adult!" you stressed, now irritated at this display of protectiveness from him. "I can date whoever I want and you can't just punch the man who happens to be my boyfriend!"
Honestly, if asked, Yuji wasn’t like 100% against your relationship with Megumi. He and Megumi practically grew up together, he knew the best and worst parts of him, and overall he still considered him decent.
But what made it hurt was that the two of you decided to leave him out. It made him doubt everything he knew about his best friend. How could he trust his sister to someone he found hard to trust?
He turned to Megumi, who was still slumped on the floors of his garage. “No. If he really likes you that much, then he will willingly accept this.”
Megumi understood, if his own sister was dating… let’s say, someone like Gojo, whom he trusted but not at the same time, he too would definitely beat the crap out of him.
And so he willingly endured all the blows. Yuji had to let off steam, and this pain was worth everything if it meant he would give his blessing for you.
Yuji was taken aback that his friend actually let him do this. When Megumi got thrown one last time and almost passed out, Yuji finally decided that it was the end.
His best friend and his sister… it was almost laughable if he didn’t feel like the biggest fool between the two of you.
He saw how you immediately sauntered towards him with tears in your eyes, muttering several apologies. Yuji wanted to snort, but then Megumi took a hold of your hand that was on his bruised cheek, and smiled, saying that it was okay.
And despite himself, his heart felt warm. Seeing the usual gruff and cold Megumi be this… soft with you seemed to open his eyes to something more.
Looking back, he could’ve had realized it when Megumi started to get touchy with you. He completely missed that the head pats were actually his subtle way of expressing his fondness for you.
Yuji decided to leave you be. At least he had made his point across, and he hated to say it outright, but perhaps, it was okay after all for you to be with him.
Okay didn’t mean you two had obtained his full blessing, though. But another event soon changed his perspective.
“Itadori,” Megumi’s ragged breaths was what he registered first through the sudden phone call. “Please come here—Y/N—she was—”
It was Yuji’s first time to witness pure panic from Megumi. He proceeded to tell him how you had been in pain and then collapsed, and that he had brought you to the hospital.
When Yuji arrived at the hospital, he once again saw how restless his friend was over your wellbeing. He could no longer deny it—the sight moved him.
“Hey, you awake?” Megumi’s face was the first you saw when you awoke at the hospital bed. He looked so concerned, a frown creased deep in his face. “Are you not in pain anymore?”
No, not quite much anymore, you wanted to say, but your throat felt so dry and you only managed to shake your head lightly.
“That’s good,” he let out a relieved sigh, and that was when you notice your brother at the corner of the room, looking at you two with a somewhat exasperated expression, but then he smiled.
Who knew a severe case of appendicitis would lead to Yuji giving his complete approval for you to date his best friend, huh?
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But life is nothing if not full of obstacles. The next obstacle you faced after Yuji’s finding out was your parents.
“Look Y/N, we know. Megumi is a good guy,” you mother started. “We've known him for a long time, of course, personality-wise, we have nothing against him.”
You bit your lower lip in frustration. Beside you at the dinner table, Yuji kept his silence, but listened attentively too.
“It’s just… the matters of his family,” your father added, carefully choosing his words.
“His father is never in the picture, is he? And there are also rather unsettling news about him too.” Your mother was always the one being more straightforward.
Both you and Yuji knew it already. As of now, Megumi only had his stepsister, and last you heard, his father was gambling somewhere and then became a convict. Megumi said he had cut ties with him, but there was no such thing as an ex-father. Until forevermore, Fushiguro Toji, a criminal, was his biological father.
“Mom, I know your concern,” Yuji had finally decided to step up, and you were grateful for that. “Fushiguro won’t end up—”
“Yes, we know,” your mother emphasized, letting out a sigh. “But we are your parents, Yuji, Y/N. If there’s even the slightest chance, we worry. We want the best for you. Always.”
You were at a loss.
You were young, and yet you already saw him in your distant future. Being with Megumi felt so right and comfortable. He was your safe space as you were his.
But you also understood where your parents’ concerns came from, or at least tried to. At least until you found out how your father approached Megumi to talk him into thinking your relationship over.
"How could you, Dad?" you asked, aghast. "You're... practically intimidating him into breaking up with me!"
"Y/N, listen—I never meant it like that," your father tried to explain himself, and yet you were already too heartbroken to hear him, and so you shut the door to your room, not giving him any chance.
Why did your relationship suddenly become everyone's business? Why couldn't they just let you be an adult?
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Megumi could still hear your father's words rang in his ears.
"Y/N... we raised her with love and care," your father said with a forlorn expression. By all means, Megumi knew that he meant well. "She's always spoiled, my only daughter... Megumi-kun, you must understand, it's not easy for us too."
He knew that his rather colorful past would get in the way one way or another, and he had come to accept it. But it still stung, because of course, he wanted full blessings from the family of the girl he fell in love with.
You were like a ray of sunshine in his dreary life. Like Yuji, your presence had made an impact on him. Your cute smiles, pouts and vulnerability around him... he loved them all.
He would get upset when you looked sad, just as you were now.
"It's really okay... Y/N." He swiftly wiped your tears with his thumb, as you sniffled. "I didn't take it to heart. Your father is just worried about you... I can understand that."
"But still—h-he shouldn't do that," you replied amidst your small sobs. Above all, you didn't want your father to have spooked him. "Megumi... I don't want to break up with you."
And honestly he didn't expect that. You were afraid of him... leaving you?
He, who did everything he could, just to have you to be by his side?
"Sir, I know where you are coming from. As of now, I don't have much. But I can say this with confidence—I... love your daughter very much, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is happy."
"Stupid," he huffed, putting a hand on your head, before messing up your hair. And gosh, you were so cute, glaring at him through your lashes.
"I won't. I've told your father that too actually."
"Just give me two years," Megumi added with unwavering voice, staring at your father earnestly. "After graduation, I'm getting my life in order. I'll secure a stable job and do my best. I'm... going to prove it to you, and you can be the judge if I can finally deserve Y/N or not."
He was 16 when he knew you, seeing you as nothing but a little girl too timid to approach him. And he was 19 when he realized that you were everything he wanted in a girl of his dreams.
At one point in his life, Megumi thought it was okay to be alone. But ever since getting to know you, he realized that loving and being loved by you were the greatest happiness of existence.
"Thank you," he muttered afterwards, as you were still starstruck that he apparently had the balls to declare something like that before your father.
"Thank you for giving me so much love. Because of you, I realized that I too deserve to be loved."
You could feel tears glassing your eyes once again. “You are. I’m glad that you finally think so.”
And that was it—your love story. Something that had started when you were 15, and ended ten years later when you were 25, with swearing your love for each other in front of the sacred altar before your closest family and friends, and Megumi by your side.
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little-pondhead · 4 months
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Day 20: Pitch Bible AU
I had a lot of fun with this :)
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[Quotes from the pitch bible and personal headcanons are below the cut.]
Link to pitch bible
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Pitch!Danny
"The kid with the nerdy, freaky parents. The kid who's afraid of his own shadow."
"Shy, quiet, stumbling and nervous - but always with a smile and a wink to his friends and the camera."
(Page 7)
Danny's death mark looks more like a burn scar rather than Lichtenberg figures. Everyone assumes he was in a fire whenever the trio talks about the Accident. The Fentons back this up since the true events cause an electrical fire in the lab.
He was only bullied about his scars once. Danny burst out crying on the spot, and no one has said anything since. He carries around a homemade balm to soothe the scars when he gets phantom pains.
His death mark extends into his hair and one of his eyes. He now has heterochromia as both Danny and Phantom, as the affected eye's iris was darkened, and a starburst pattern appeared. (inspired by this)
His overall eyesight was also affected, and he now wears reading glasses as a human. Danny frequently loses them, so his friends bought him a used eyeglass chain from a yard sale. The eyeglass chain is made of rainbow beads, and the spirit of the previous owner is attached to it.
Danny took up knitting soon after the Accident to help retrain his fine motor skills and concentration. He's quite good at it, and he made a sweater based on Van Gogh's Starry Night.
Frequently has ectoplasm stains on his clothes from either ghost fights or helping his parents in their lab. Most people think it's paint.
Phantom is invisible to most people (including himself when he looks in mortal mirrors.) He keeps it that way as much as possible, as his appearance is quite inhuman. Danny hates the uncanny valley feeling he causes wherever he goes. Even his friends had to work to get past the instinct to run when he showed himself. He has no pupils, but his death mark remains.
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Pitch!Tucker
"Tucker uses the gadgets that Danny has gotten for him by raiding Mom and Dad's lab: The goggles that let him see ghosts, the backpack that lets him capture them, and the occasional random jet back that Dad was saving for a rainy day."
(Page 17)
Tallest of the trio, even with Sam's boots giving her an inch. Took track and field in middle school, so he's also the most physically fit, even if it's just by a little. Tucker is also the most reckless of the three and carries a first aid kit around for both him and Danny.
Bit of an adrenaline junkie, even if he won't admit it. Red Bull is his go-to over coffee and tea, which both Sam and Danny insist is bad for him. He's always hungry from sharing his meals with Danny, who cannot cook at home.
Tucker was forced to stop wearing his hats in middle school, but he hated his hair at the time, so he dyed it blonde and fried it straight to 'fit in better.' Sam and Danny have yelled at him for it, and he's slowly learning to appreciate his natural hair. (He still wants to keep dying it for a few more years, however. Red is the next color on his list!)
Takes dual courses at the Amity Park Community College in computer science. Became a top student quickly. He uses this knowledge to help Danny tinker with his parents' inventions and computers. (Which is difficult, given their backgrounds.)
Has a form of synesthesia called 'chromesthesia,' which means he sees colors and patterns when he hears sounds. His favorite color pattern is the sound of leaves rustling in autumn since it makes pretty yellow, orange, and red swirls. He turns the most memorable sounds into tie-dye t-shirts.
Tucker uses his 'liberated' Fenton tech all the time. Aside from ghost fights, he will 100% use the jetpack to get to school when he's late or use an extendable arm to hold a drink when he's busy. It drives Danny nuts because he has to recharge the backpack more, but when it comes down to it, he doesn't really mind. After all, Tucker is the one jailbreaking all their equipment.
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Pitch!Sam
"A Goth Janeane Garofalo-type that hides her good looks behind baggy clothes, she is an encyclopedia of conspiracy theories and paranormal activity…a cute girl who loves all things geek!"
(Page 17)
Sam is the most serious of the three and is suspicious of everything. Her parents raised her as a rich elite; nothing comes for free in that type of life. She practically lives in the secondary suite that belonged to her grandmother Ida, tending to the greenhouse and library there.
Her favorite color is purple, and she raises Purple Emperor butterflies in the greenhouse in an attempt to increase their population, despite her location. She raises other butterflies and insects as well, but the Purple Emperors are her pride and joy. She wears purple butterfly charms in honor of them.
She has a bigger library than the high school, with books on topics Danny and Tucker have never heard of. During a ghost-induced power outage, they went to Sam and her library to perform an "ancient form of Googling." She did not appreciate that joke.
Cuts and dyes her hair herself, and bothers the boys about proper self care. She even has a little notebook in her pocket that lists reminders, dates, and observations she wants to look back on later. (For example, it reminds her when Danny is supposed to take his medicine, since his memory sucks now.)
Sam researches the paranormal almost obsessively, especially since she gains that psychic link with Danny. She wants to understand it, how it works, and why it happened. (She isn’t aware the ‘get better’ kiss was the cause.)
The random feelings and visions have increased her anxiety tenfold. Tucker jokes that she’s Batman now, since Sam has used her money to create a hundred different backup plans for everything she could think of, including hidden emergency packs all over town.
Once curb-stomped a grown man, as a child, on the day of Grandma Ida’s funeral because he was bragging about influencing the final will in his favor. She brings this energy to any fight she’s capable of participating in, and ghosts have learned to give her a wide berth. Locals just think she’s nuts.
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cozycottagetarot · 7 months
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Your Future In-Laws First Impression of You
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Pile 1 🪸 Pile 2 🛩️ Pile 3 ☔️
Notes:
This reading covers Your future in-laws (married or long-term partner) first impression of you as well as how they receive you. It's purely for entertainment purposes only. Take what only what resonates be it some, all or none.
I've been feeling mildly scatterbrained when it comes to organising my thoughts and I didn't have the mental capacity to design any graphics. Hopefully, this reading is still clear though.
Elle 🍃
Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂
Photos From Unsplash: Pile 1 image source | Pile 2 image source | Pile 3 image source
PILE 1
What do they think of you?
Cards: Cat’s Claw (Purification), Lion’s Mane (Leadership), Lavender (Weaver), Ace of Swords, King of Cups, Four of Swords
Your in-laws first impression of you is one of being impressed and intrigued. From the cards pulled (including the next section) it feels like your future in-laws will be a very tight-knit family, so your future long-term partner/spouse introducing you is very much a big deal. I feel like it could be at a family gathering or you’re invited to an important event where you meet them there. You could give off the impression of being very regal and revered. I think your future in-laws will be very satisfied with you and see you as exactly what they want for their child/relative. They could also be cautious of you in the sense that you may give off the energy of calm but not to be messed with. They could view you as someone who is very balanced energetically. You could give off an enticing blend of masculine and feminine qualities.
You could also give off the impression of someone whose intelligence comes from observing a situation first. The only card that didn’t quite 'blend' as seamlessly initially for me here is the Four of Swords. You could give off a very unfazed vibe at times… or seem as though you’re uninterested in what’s going on all while simultaneously being on high alert. It could come from past experiences though that leaves you this way and I think your in-laws will be able to pick up on that as well. For others, you could just have this attractive, leadership energy and your in-laws' first impression of you could be “This person is great, but they sound like they need to rest.”
How will they receive you? Cards: Tobacco (Offering) , Arnica (Teacher), Saint John’s Wort (Radiance), Death, Six of Pentacles, The Hermit reversed
Your future in-laws will receive you with open arms. Right off the bat they’re going to take you in and share with you their wisdom and their love. Even if you and your in-laws may have differences, they’ll show you from the start that they are willing to get to know who you are and build a relationship with you. For them, your presence welcomes the start of a new beginning in their family. I feel like your in-laws may be very traditional but also open. They will want to help nurture you. For some of you, they may give a physical gift for you or offer you an opportunity of some kind.
PILE 2
What do they think of you? Cards: Rosemary (ancient memory), Gingko (breakthrough), Psilocybin (commune), Knight of Cups, Two of Swords, The Emperor, Knight of Wands
If you were drawn to pile 1, you could consider checking out that pile as well after.
I don’t know if you’re sleepy or what pile 2, but something to do with sleep is coming through for you. I figured maybe some of you may meet your in-laws at night, for others you may have an intense intellectual energy and it’s like “Wow, does this person ever sleep?” Your in-laws may see you as someone charming, playful or good fun, but overall super focused and fixated on a specific thing. For some of you, you may not have the best social skills? You might say things that catch them off guard, but I don’t think they’ll think less of you for it. Your person could have a big family, so there may be many in-laws you meet. They definitely see you as committed to what you set your mind to and that when you make a decision about something, it’s not one you make lightly. You give your all to projects and people. They may see you as a visionary, someone with lots of wisdom and brilliant ideas. I think that you might even influence them, if not completely change their perspective on a matter. If there are children around you may interact with them well, almost like a mentor and I think your future in-laws will be pleased with that. You may not directly interact with them when they form their first impression of you, they may simply observe you from a distance. For others, it could be that you flit back and forth between intellectual intensity that makes you seem older than you are one minute and embodying a child-like sense of wonder and whimsiness that makes you see younger the next.
How will they receive you? Cards: Rose (love), Cannabis (detachment), Tulsi (wealth), 10 of Cups, Page of Swords, 6 of Wands
*If you’re struggling with anxiety or sleep, there’s a message here to take time and care around cultivating inner calm. Quick fixes might do more harm than good currently.
There’s not one uniform energy here, like I mentioned before, it feels like various people I’m picking up on (so forgive me if this feels slightly scattered). For some, they might seem a little bit detached or unexpressive but they like you. It could be that they quite honestly didn’t want to like you but they do, or the initial getting to know one another might be rocky before you finally get to a point where it's like "yeah, y/n is pretty great.". Regardless, you’ll feel welcomed and you’ll be received with grace. I’m also picking up on some may want to get on your good side because they see you as someone successful or capable of great success so they may try to wow you. They may want to learn from you as well. I definitely pick up on someone seeking you out in hopes that you’ll teach them about something. They may welcome you by striking up a conversation.
PILE 3
What do they think of you? Cards: Palo Santo (Guardian), Jergón Sacha (Transfiguration), Chamomile (Inner Peace) reversed Four of Wands reversed, Ace of Swords, Two of Wands
It's not quite clear who's energy is what but I did my best. I think both you and your future in-laws may kind of flip back and forth feeling the same way about each other because I did pull some cards to represent your impression of your in-laws and was getting the same vibes and their impression of you.
There are multiple scenarios here so I split it up into bullet points.
Your future in-laws might need a minute to process who you are (aesthetic/interest-wise). (I also got they may need a couple years to come to terms with you? 😭 However, editing this it could have been that it took them a while to come to terms with their child/relative's type?)
I think you take everything they expect and flip it on their head, for better or worse.
I don’t sense any malice, but I definitely think that they may feel slightly avoidant of you at first? I don’t know why but I keep envisioning when you watch those movies and there’s someone coming over and the couple is in a panic and trying to act natural… I’m not sure that makes sense, but that’s what I keep getting. It’s not like 'Oh, we don’t like this person’. It’s more of an "X is coming and I didn’t have enough time to mentally prepare’. Some people just have a big personality, and even if you do like them you just kind of need to prepare yourself for them still 😅
For some of you, it could be that they’re worried you’ll lead their child/relative down a path they don’t agree with??? There’s fear here and the words aren’t coming out right because your in-laws like I said may not be able to immediately process you. I just get this weary sense, and that they know well enough there is no need to be weary of you.
Another possibility that comes to me is your person/future spouse may have also been one of those kids that leave their parents stressed 24/7 (like my sister), so your future in-laws try to run every scenario through their head trying to prepare themselves for what their child's partner could be like. They could also be relieved that you’re nothing like what they expected.
It could also be that they could feel like you’re the one who's guarded and has a wall up, or you’re anxious about meeting them and they pick up on that?
How will they receive you? Cards: Ashwagandha (purpose), Ginseng (magician), Sage (blessing), Mandrake (sensuality) The Magician, The Hierophant, Queen of Swords
While I was pulling the cards, “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” from Mulan suddenly started ‘playing’ in my head. Your future in-laws may kind of see you as their pet project of sorts. Not like you need fixing in any way, you might just seem like a good candidate for something one or both of your in-laws have in mind. Good or bad thing that’s on a case-by-case basis. You’ve got the hierophant and magician and for whatever reason, the imagery especially kind of put that in my head. They may have certain rules or values that they will communicate are important to them. Those two cards, as well as the queen of swords, are all holding an item and I heard a 'talking stick'?? Maybe it means something to someone or maybe I just need to rest lol. I think your in-laws will do their best to form a relationship with you. One thing that definitely feels evident is that they will know you’re their child/relative's person. Their initial feelings from their impression of you may completely switch when it comes to interacting with you. They’ll put a genuine effort into getting to know you, and not just a courtesy get-to-know-you type of interaction. They genuinely want to connect with you and understand you. They’ll try to release any preconceived notions towards you and they may even verbalise this as well.
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oozedninjas · 10 months
Note
Just cause I feel it would be fun. Can you describe what each of the guys O faces are like?
Hmm fun! Bayverse cause why not.
18+ / MDNI / NSFW / Ninja guys are mid to late twenties /
Leo
If there's a difference between hot and sexy, he's sexy.
His brows furrow as he closes his eyes.
A subtle glimpse of his teeth peeks through his mouth.
Short breaths accompany a moan that trembles as he comes.
Overall, it's a remarkably alluring sight.
If he's making eye contact with you, his gaze is so intense that it can send you, I promise
Raph
If there's a difference between hot and sexy, he's hot.
His eyebrows knit together, his eyes roll back in her head, mouth slightly open.
Raph has absolutely not a single hint of shame in his body at that moment. He lets his head fall back as he arches.
* GROANING INTENSIFIES*
Donatello
Listen, listen, he's so cute.
His eyes are hooded and glistening.
The expression accompanies closed-mouth sounds, resembling a gentle, wobbly hum. His eyebrows gracefully arch upwards.
In the early stages of the relationship when he's a bit more shy, Donnie attempts to hide his face by covering it with the back of his hand.
Mikey
He's completely immersed in his blissful moment.
His mouth is agape, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his tongue as it briefly peeks out.
His once hooded eyes roll to the back of his head, creating an intoxicating scene that fuels you to indulge in giving him as many O's as possible.
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daddykinkkinard · 29 days
Text
! crossposting from my twitter !
bucktommy costume analysis 👔
hi ! i'm a fashion student and am really interested in costume design so i wanted to do a (long) post on tommy's style and how i think buck might be influenced by it in s8 as seen in "buck's britches." :))
[about tommy]
tommy's wardrobe is entirely functional and indicative of his dedication to his work. it's practical, useful, and speaks of his can-do attitude.
all his signature clothes (henleys, shackets, canvas jackets) have historical traces to being used as workwear.
(1) henleys - this one, ironically in the philippines it has its own term in our local language. it's called a camisa de chino and is used by laborers. although i live in a different country, i'm sure its use case is still the same for other countries as it's historically deemed the workman's undergarment.
also: yes. tommy is technically right. there were henleys in the 80s. even in the 1880s. so what we're learning here now folks, is that he's a smartass little shit.
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(2) shackets - historically, also an item used by the working class. they were mostly worn to prevent any possible stains on inner clothes from their work (i.e. dirt, grease, grime, etc.)
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(3) canvas jacket - although this was only seen in 7x04, it's more likely that he still owns a lot more. (waxed) canvas jackets are traditional workwear often used as weatherproof outerwear or heavy duty rainwear.
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as a form of fun speculation, i'd like to think some of these items are also in his closet:
contrast collar canvas jacket
an authentic flight jacket
overalls, but only for when he fixes up the car
denim trucker jacket
if anything, who better to listen to when talking about tommy's clothes than tommy himself !
here's lou's cameo for me describing tommy's closet as rugged, practical and useful :))
[about "buck's britches"]
now to the "buck's britches" post. two notable items of clothing:
the famous flight jacket
baker pants.
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now here's the thing about buck:
buck doesn't wear utilitarian clothing. in fact, he doesn't wear woven clothing all that much. he wears knit. knit polos. sweaters. hoodies. he is not a workwear person. in fact: he's a comfort person.
that's his primary reason for style that's a testament to his own character. buck is widely recognized as the more radiant and funny character. he has charisma and is very inviting, which is accompanied by his choice in clothing.
soft, warm, comfortable.
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which goes back to the photo ostark posted on his instagram story.
(1) flight jacket - here's where i have to go and burst everyone's bubble for a bit. this is only a flight jacket because it's labelled as such. but categorically, it isn't. flight jackets are the classic term for bomber jackets.
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bomber jackets (and flight jackets) were workwear used by the military, characterized by garterized cuffs and hems and short bodices. for pilots, they were interchangeable. but modernly, they have some more definable features.
characteristically, flight (or aviator) jackets are leather with shearling or sherpa collars. bomber jackets are the modernized version taking the silhouette and cuff designs and making them more accessible through material choice (linen—like buck—nylon, silk)
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(2) baker pants - as the name suggests, it's a piece of kitchen workwear often in twill (which i'd assume is what oliver is wearing), denim, cotton or linen. it's characterized by the topstitching to outline the pockets and diagonal pocket openings (vs. the usual curve).
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so very evidently: buck has been influenced by tommy's style. he's wearing woven material versus knit for one. if i were hopeful, i'd say they're exploring one another's style because they're sharing a closet.
[character analysis]
woven fabric as a material is sturdy. it's more structured and does not stretch. think: cotton, linen, rayon, wool, denim. what this means for buck is that, by virtue of being tommy's boyfriend he is introduced to structure, groundedness and maturity.
tommy's closet is filled with utilitarian clothing and workwear. he, as a character, is known to be emotionally grounded and mature and it translates to his clothing.
buck adapting the defining features of his wardrobe shows how much tommy has helped him get off his hamster wheel.
in fact, even the inverse can be noted. when buck asks for a second chance and practices communication towards tommy. he's wearing a woven buttondown. and in emphasizing tommy's desire to make buck comfortable, he's in a hoodie. neither of which are common for one another.
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buck and tommy, even through subtle clothing choices are becoming part of one another's world and that makes me so soft as someone whose love language is fashion.
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[wishful thinking]
perhaps maybe we could see tommy in a fully casual sweat set? i know that they might be protecting lfjr but man. if i see a hoodie on him. (nqueso, if you can sneak me a photo of him in knitwear ill love you forever i just want to prove my theory right i wont even post it)
if they are putting buck in this sort of attire, my guess (or hope) is that they have tommy ease up too.
it would be nice to show buck's effect on tommy as much as tommy's effect on buck because tommy's an established character and has a backstory that the writers could explore.
so if the 9-1-1 costume designers ever see this:
please put tommy in a sweat set. or a hoodie. (not a zip-up one, im talking real hoodie). i'm willing to compromise with overalls. i see what you're doing with buck's wardrobe, and love it. maybe tommy's could soften up too :))
thanks for reading ! 🫶
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grandmother-goblin · 8 months
Text
Just Watch the Fireworks
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Ao3 - Masterlist
Summary: It was supposed to be a sweet, innocent date. That was, until Astarion decided he wanted to have some fun with you while you were very much still in public.
Relationships: Astarion x Female!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+) for smut.
Word Count: 2.3k
Tags: Smut, exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, cuddling, kissing, post Astarion's personal quest, spawn!Astarion.
Firework shows over Grey Harbor happened only a couple of times a year in Baldur’s Gate. Bright, massive, loud displays that boomed over the whole city and illuminated the night sky in dazzling arrays of colors and lights. Usually they marked some sort of holiday or other celebration. Although you weren’t keen on the celebration for this particular occasion, Gortash’s coronation, you were still eager to see the show.
Plus, it was a nice way to end your impromptu date with Astarion. You two had gone out to get some supplies, but upon seeing the night market and posters for the firework show, you decided to stay a while.
Astarion had found a perfect spot for the two of you on a grassy, green hillside just on the outskirts of the city. It was one of the more popular places to watch the fireworks. People dotted the landscape, all sitting on their own little blankets as they looked out over the ocean, waiting for the show to begin.
It was kind of nice to be out with Astarion like this. 
Ever since Cazador had been defeated, Astarion had grown much more comfortable being out in the open at night. He seemed more relaxed overall, like a heavy weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Of course, there were several other factors on both of your minds: the tadpole, the Absolute, the fact that Astarion’s days walking in sunlight were numbered.
But you two would figure it out. 
Together.
For now, you wanted to enjoy the night with him and pretend none of your problems existed. Even if it was only for a couple of hours.
As you sat between his open legs, Astarion wrapped his arms around you along with a knitted blanket, cocooning you in pleasant warmth. You leaned your head back against his shoulder with a comfortable sigh, luxuriating in the silky soft material of his shirt. “I bet you’ve seen these shows a thousand times.”
“I have,” he replied matter-of-factly, his cool breath fanning across your neck. You felt him press a kiss to your shoulder, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips. “One year, all the fireworks went off at the same time. It was hilarious and I almost hope it happens again.”
You gave a little snort of laughter. “That would cut this date really short.”
“We can find plenty more to do, my love.” Astarion’s fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt and gave your hip an affectionate squeeze. “Now that Cazador is gone, we can do whatever we want. The night is still young.”
“Oh no,” you replied lightly. “I’m turning in for the night after the show is over. I’m exhausted.”
Though Astarion seemed to have plenty of energy, the events of the day had been starting to weigh on you. All you wanted to do after the fireworks display was cozy up in some warm pajamas and snuggle into your bed at the Elfsong Tavern. 
Preferably, you would be cuddled up next to Astarion, but you wouldn’t stop him if he had other plans. 
Most nights since you had started sharing a room with him, Astarion had been perfectly capable of keeping himself occupied while you slept. Sometimes he would read a book or work on something with a needle and thread, but you almost always awoke to him meditating peacefully beside you.
Other nights, well, he had to hunt. While you were happy to be his donor when he really needed blood, it simply wasn’t practical to let him feed on you all the time. So long as he was discreet, you didn’t mind that he took his hunting to the streets.
With his thumb, he drew idle circles around your hip as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch, enjoying the feel of the heavy blanket wrapped around you and the firmness of his chest against your back.
His lips brushed against the shell of your ear and with a low and husky voice, he said, “I keep thinking about our night in the graveyard.”
A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “Which part?”
“The part with you under me,” he muttered against your skin as he slipped one finger beneath the waistband of your pants, “moaning my name as you clawed my back.”
Heat rose to your cheeks. “Shh,” you said, your eyes darting around at the people sitting on neighboring blankets. “Not so loud.”
“They aren’t paying attention to us.” Astarion placed a reassuring kiss to the side of your head, but he didn’t move his hand. Then he cocked his chin to the starry sky above the harbor. “The show is about to start.”
Sure enough, the first of the fireworks burst into the sky. A splattering of reds and yellows against the inky night sky, the distant sounds of explosive crackling reaching your ears mixing with the sound of excited cheers from the people around you. You watched as the bursts of light shimmered away, blending into the night, just before more fireworks flowered above.
You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned back into Astarion’s touch. Squeezing his arms around you, he pulled your body flush against his. At first, you thought he was just cuddling closer. But then you felt it: a hard ridge nudged that up against your lower back.
You swallowed, but felt heat rising to your face even as you tried to ignore Astarion’s painfully obvious erection. He wasn’t doing anything inappropriate — he was just holding you. With his hard cock pressed against your back. 
Gods, was it always so hot at night? What did you even need a blanket for?
Just as you thought about shrugging the blanket from your shoulders, his fingers slipped further beneath the waistband of your pants. “I want to touch you,” he said, his lips brushing against your throat as he spoke. “Just a little bit.”
“Right now?” you asked, keeping your voice so low you could barely hear yourself over the fireworks. Uncertainty and anticipation tugged your mind in two different directions and you shifted slightly, unsure of what to do with yourself.
It had only been a couple of nights since your tryst in the cemetery, and you and Astarion hadn’t been intimate since. Not for any particular reason — there just wasn’t enough time in the day for intimacy with everything going on with the Absolute. 
Suddenly very aware of a subtle, yearning, ache between your legs that hadn’t been there a few moments ago, you pressed your thighs together hoping to give yourself some relief.
It was unfair, really, how quickly Astarion could turn you on. 
You were supposed to be on a sweet, innocent, date! And he—
“Spread your legs a bit for me, darling,” Astarion murmured, his dangerous teeth delicately nipping at sensitive flesh just below your jawbone.
He was absolutely going to be the death of you.
Glancing around, there were people in every direction you looked. No one was sitting too close, but they were close enough that they could easily hear your conversation had you not been trying to be quiet. But all of them faced straight ahead, their eyes entranced on the bursts of light blooming across the sky. 
“Astarion,” you whispered, your voice somewhere between a warning and a whine as Astarion’s fingers brushed over the soft fabric of your panties. “There are people around.”
His hand stilled, and you couldn’t help the tiny, involuntary, tilt of your hips. You could see the flash of his teasing, rakish smile from the corner of your eye. “Do you want me to stop?”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you took one more look around. 
Astarion had been right earlier.
No one was paying attention to the two of you.
Shaking your head, you swallowed as nerves and excitement fluttered in your stomach. “But—”
“All you have to do is stay still for me,” Astarion said as he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear, “and try not to moan my name too loudly.”
Carefully, and as subtly as you could, you let your legs fall open. 
A pleased hum rumbled in Astarion’s throat as he pulled your back flush against him. His hard cock was like a brand against your lower back. “Now just watch the fireworks, darling, and no one will know what I’m doing to you under this blanket.”
Kissing your neck, the tips of his fingers slowly, steadily, circled your clit. You let your head fall back against his shoulder with a sigh, your cheeks burning as he touched you. 
Gods, he was really going to do this, wasn’t he? He was going to finger you in public and…
You didn’t want him to stop. 
You breathed in deep, inhaling the sweet piney and citrusy scent of his cologne. A comforting scent, and one that turned you on like no other because it was uniquely Astarion’s. Slowly, your body relaxed into his touch.
For a moment, it was just the two of you and the sounds of fireworks.
“Good girl,” Astarion purred as his hand delved between your legs. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as he teased your entrance, gathering your slickness on his fingertips. Slowly, he slid one finger inside of you. “It’s just me and you right now.”
He touched you leisurely, unhurried strokes. The subtle curl of his fingers made you want to arch into him. It was all too easy to forget yourself when you were with him. When he was touching you like this. 
How you wanted to return the favor. You wanted to wrap your hand around that hard length behind you and give him some pleasure as well. 
But you couldn’t. 
At least, not without exposing you both.
When he pressed another finger inside you, a shaky exhale passed your lips. Your walls clenched around him, as if trying to draw him in deeper. “Astarion, please,” you whispered, not really sure what you were asking for.
But Astarion knew.
Astarion knew exactly how to touch you. 
He knew exactly what your body needed to be brought to the edge. Oh, he knew how to make you scream in ecstasy, but he also knew how to make you sigh with pure pleasure. Like how his dexterous hands picked locks, it was like they knew all of your intricacies and exactly how to make you fall apart.
You pressed your lips against the underside of his jaw, stifling your moans against his cool skin. The heel of his palm rocked over against your clit in a steady, consistent rhythm as he shallowly thrusted into you. Glancing down, you could see that the thick blanket around you masked his movements completely.
Sneaky, clever, man. 
Of course he knew exactly how to do something like this without being obvious. Although Astarion was far from subtle, he was excellent at not getting caught doing things he wasn’t supposed to.
The only one you had to worry about was yourself.
Your face heated as his movements grew more powerful. Your fingers gripped his thigh under the blanket as your core tightened around his fingers.
His tongue flicked the shell of your ear delicately. “Do you know what I want to do right now?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
Another gasp escaped your lip as he added a third finger, your body stretching to accommodate him. You felt so full, and you wanted nothing more than for him to go deeper. To fill you completely in a way only he could.
“What… what do you want to do?” you panted, fighting the urge to squirm in his arms.
Whatever you did, you would not let yourself get caught simply because you lacked self control.
The heel of his palm pressed more firmly against your clit, providing delicious friction as he fucked your so gently with his fingers. “I want to bend you over, darling,” he said as he picked up speed. “And I want to taste that pretty pussy of yours.”
Oh, by the gods. 
He would never. 
It was just dirty talk but — the idea of having an audience was so incredibly hot. Especially since there were so many people around, and you couldn’t indulge in such a fantasy here.
The forbidden nature of it just made you want it more.
“I would make you come on my tongue,” he murmured as the hard ridge between you pressed meaningfully against your back. “Only then, would I give you my cock. And I wouldn’t stop until you were screaming my name.”
You were so close. Your entire body was strung tight as your walls clenched around his fingers, wishing for something bigger. Thicker.
Why did you agree to this? You wanted nothing more than to climb on top of him and let him fill you up the way you wanted. 
“Gods. Astarion,” you whispered against the scars on his neck. “I’m—”  
Your mouth fell open on a sharp gasp as Astarion’s fingers returned to your clit. Astarion captured your lips with his own, drinking in your soft moans as you came undone. 
The lights from the fireworks burst behind your closed eyes. The booming display in the sky crescendoed into a deafening roar as the show reached its finale, drowning out your already muffled sighs.
Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you as you rode out your orgasm. Your hips undulated lewdly against his hand as his lips moved against yours. He tasted like sweet wine as his tongue flicked against yours teasingly. 
It was only when your heart began to settle that you felt the delicate nip of his fangs on your lips. His fingers, still slick with your arousal, intertwined with yours as he gazed down at you. 
When you looked into those gorgeous vermillion eyes, his pupils were blown wide with lust.
Lust, and unmistakable love.
Then his eyes flickered toward the direction of the Elfsong Tavern. “You know,” he said, holding your chin in hand as his thumb swiped gently over your lower lip. “I think we should turn in early after all. What do you say?”
You were nodding before he even finished his sentence. “Oh gods, yes.”
---
Author's Note: This is my first foray into writing anything in second person or anything xReader, so I'm sorry for any mistakes and I hope you enjoyed!
653 notes · View notes
supernovafics · 9 months
Note
Hi! I recently found your "I'll be there for you" universe and I love it.
I was wondering if you'd want to do a sick fic where reader gets a sudden fever/body aches/chills/so on and tries to shrug it off as no big deal even though it absolutely is and Steve, the ultimate caretaker he is, forgets all about his plans for the evening to stay in and take care of them. Thank you, have a great week!
𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 4.7k words
warnings: explicit language, descriptions of sickness/being sick, brief mentions of parental neglect, mentions of weed, overall very soft and wholesome and cozy<3
summary: in which you and steve are sick on christmas 
author's note: thank u for the request !! when i started this series one of the first ideas i had was something where reader and steve are sick during the holidays so this request fit with that perfectly<33 i couldn't really figure out how to end this so it kinda just ends lmao
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Winter 1985
“This is your fault,” You told Steve as you sniffled.
“I know, I know,” He responded— he had been hearing your grumbling from the moment you woke up, so he was pretty much used to it by now. He walked over to where you were sitting on the couch and held out a capful of cough syrup for you to grab. “Here. Take this.” 
“Thank you,” You mumbled as you drank the medicine and then immediately went to grab your glass of water sitting on the coffee table because of how strong and bitter the cherry flavoring was. “Ugh.”
You now fully regretted that moment a few nights ago where you and Steve sat out on the fire escape and smoked weed in the freezing weather; an idea that had fully been Steve’s. It was fun in the moment, even though you could barely remember most of the conversation the two of you had, but a hint of a cold started building from the second you woke up that next morning and now it was at its worst. You currently had a stuffy nose and a horrible cough that gave you the shittiest headache. And after hours of laying in your bed and falling in and out of sleep, you finally decided to go out into the living room and complain to your best friend about how much you blamed him for your current sickness. 
“Can you pass me the blanket, please?” You asked, pointing to the one that was laying on the back of one of the dining table chairs; it was barely five feet away but you didn’t have it in you to move out of the comfortable position you found yourself in on the couch. 
“You become such a baby when you’re sick,” Steve told you with a roll of his eyes that you knew wasn’t serious as he handed you the knitted throw blanket, which you immediately wrapped around yourself after putting your water back down.
“Oh, whatever. I swear you’re always worse than me,” You said with your own eye roll; if he was closer to you, you would’ve given his arm a light smack. Your gaze moved upward, taking note of the time on the clock that hung on the wall above the television; it was a small round red clock that Steve had thrifted a few months ago. “Anyway, when are you heading to the Wheeler’s Christmas Eve party? Make sure you have fun for the both of us, and bring me back some of those gingerbread cookies that Karen makes.”
Steve sat next to you on the couch. “I’m not gonna go to the party.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed in both surprise and confusion when you heard him say that because he loved going to that holiday party just as much as you did. All of the kids would be there as well as Robin and Eddie, and always at some point during the night, you all would end up migrating downstairs to the basement away from the real adults. The kids and Eddie would start playing D&D as you, Robin, and Steve sat on the sidelines watching the madness unfold. And then eventually the three of you would simply start playing random card games with Nancy and Jonathan. 
“I won’t be mad if you go. Jokingly, yes— I’ll probably pretend to be mad at you for going for the next few days. But, I’m not actually,” You told him and then sniffled again because you couldn’t help it.
“No, it’s okay,” He said as he leaned back on the couch. “I don’t wanna go without you.”
“You sure?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay, well, in that case,” You scooted closer to him on the couch and leaned your head on his shoulder. It was a position that never failed to comfort you, and you especially needed that in this moment where your body was telling you that you needed to sleep and the cough syrup you just took was making it easier to do so. “Thank you.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You weren’t entirely sure how or when you ended up in your bed, but you were happy about it. It was now dark outside and the digital clock sitting on your nightstand told you that the time was only nine o’clock. 
You turned on your side and saw Steve next to you— head against one of your pillows, eyes shut, and lips slightly parted. It was a nice surprise seeing him asleep next to you, but you also knew that he probably shouldn’t be. 
You reached out and lightly poked his cheek a few times. His eyes slowly opened just for a second before closing again and he let out a soft, “Hm?”
“You’re gonna get sick too if you sleep here,” You told him. 
“I wanna stay close just in case you need something.”
You couldn’t help but smile at that. “And you wonder why I act like a baby when I’m sick. It’s because you treat me like one.” 
“Well, someone has to.” Steve shrugged through his half-asleep daze and you knew exactly what he meant by his words. 
When you were younger, before you met him, you had gotten so used to taking care of yourself because your parents weren’t the type to do much; your dad was always on some sort of business trip and your mom was always busy working at her office. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time either of them gave you medicine or soup or even worried about you at all when you got sick. However, the day your parents met Steve’s on that cruise and it was discovered that you all lived in towns that were only twenty minutes away from one another, things changed— you and Steve started taking care of each other. 
In tenth grade when you got the flu, he spent his lunchtime every day that week driving to your house to check on you. And even though he hated school, he’d still go to yours and pick up your assignments from one of your friends, and he’d help you do most of them so you didn’t fall behind too much; most of it was wrong, but it was the thought that counted. And when he got sick last Summer, you spent every night at his house until he felt better. It was slightly funny because those four days led you to getting sick the next week, and it felt like that same thing was about to happen in this instance. 
“You saying that just reminded me that I need to call my mom and tell her that I can’t come to the Christmas brunch thing she set up with my Aunt and cousin,” You shifted a bit and pulled the blanket higher over you. “Now, I’m actually glad that I’m sick.” 
“I already called and told her while you were sleeping, but she didn’t really believe me, so yeah you should probably call her too,” Steve said, which made you laugh a bit.
“That’s actually not surprising. I’ll call in the morning,” You said and then yawned. “You don’t have to go to your parent’s tomorrow, right?”
“Nope, they’re in California for this business thing my dad has to be at.”
“Nice,” You responded with a small nod. “For some reason, I can’t remember the last time it was just you and me during Christmas.”
“Ninth grade,” Steve said with a small sleepy smile on his face and his eyes opened again. “My parents were out of town, and then yours had to leave too to do something last second. We had the great idea to set up the tent I got in sixth grade and camp out in my backyard.”
“Oh, yeah,” You said, laughing at the memory. “We got way too cold around one in the morning and decided to just sleep in front of the fireplace in the living room.” 
“I wish this place had a fireplace.”
“We can sleep in front of the radiator?”
Steve thought about your suggestion for a second before shaking his head. “Not the same.”
“Okay, that’s true,” You said with a quick nod before reaching beneath the blanket and lightly poking his t-shirt covered side. “Hey, do you remember what I got you that year?”
Steve immediately let out a laugh. “Yes, and I actually still have that Mickey Mouse poster.” 
You turned away from him then and covered your face with your hands. “Oh, God. No, you don’t. You’re kidding.”
“Yes, I do,” Steve said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “It’s rolled up in my closet. I would go grab it, but I’m too tired to move right now.”
You remembered exactly how excited you had been to give him that poster, which was supposed to be a really cool picture of one of his favorite basketball players, and the guy that you bought it from at the flea market even told you that it was signed. But when Steve pulled it out of the plastic and unrolled it in his living room on Christmas, instead of it being anywhere close to a photo of any basketball player, it was a picture of Mickey Mouse on a train.
“I’m still so embarrassed and mad that the sales guy at that flea market tricked me,” You said and sighed. You were still a little upset with yourself that you didn’t make him open up the poster and show it to you before you bought it, but he said that was “against the rules” since it was sealed in the plastic, and that reasoning had somewhat made sense to you. “And it’s not like I could try to return it or yell at him because the flea market was only here for a weekend.”
“Now that you’ve brought it up, I think we should hang the poster up in the living room. Maybe where the dining table is?” 
You turned to face Steve again. “I will never allow that to happen.”
“I guess I’ll just have to put it up when you fall asleep,” He said, and you ignored his overdramatic wince when you playfully punched his arm. “Do you remember what I got you for Christmas that year?” 
“Of course,” You nodded. You still had that silver bracelet he got you, and you were a thousand percent certain that you would keep it forever, even though now it just sat in your jewelry box because the clasp broke sometime last year. “I still can’t figure out how to fix that damn clasp.”
“I could just get you another one.”
“Not the same,” You told him with a quick shake of your head. “One day I’ll figure out how to fix it.”
“Okay,” He said and then brought up a different time that the two of you decided to try camping in his backyard, which was in the Summer and on a very warm night, but you and him still didn’t fully spend the night outside because there were too many bugs. 
You laughed at the memory as Steve talked about it now because it just reminded you that you and him were probably the least “outdoorsy” people ever, but somehow that never stopped either of you from trying to be. 
That was how the rest of the night went; reminiscing about more random stuff— memories from various moments of your friendship that always made you smile or laugh or even feel a little bit embarrassed— until both of you fell asleep again. And it wasn’t the biggest surprise when Steve woke up in the morning sniffling.
“I told you this would happen,” You said to him as you walked back to your bed, cough syrup in hand because you knew that he’d be needing it. You were actually feeling the tiniest bit better; still pretty bad but not as horrible as yesterday.
“Merry Christmas to you too,” He grumbled as he rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes and then sneezed.
“Here. Take this,” You said with a small smile, mimicking the same words he had said to you yesterday. 
“Our roles changed way too fast,” Steve said before drinking the capful of cough syrup. “I was supposed to be taking care of you, and now you’re the one taking care of me.”
“We’ll take shifts on who gets to be the more helpless one,” You told him amusingly. “Right now it’s your turn. Do you want some water?”
He nodded and you went to the kitchen to grab a bottle and then handed it over to him before you settled back in the bed. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
A handful of hours passed, all of which marked the most boring Christmas you’d probably ever had; but you’d take this silence and sickness over a tense brunch with your mom any day.
You were reading a book and Steve was still asleep next to you, turned on his side and blanket covering his head. A knock on the front door pulled your focus away from the page you were in the middle of reading.
You really didn’t feel like getting out of bed to answer it, but you also didn’t want to wake Steve and make him go do it, so with a sigh, you closed your book and placed it on the nightstand and then walked out of your bedroom. You headed to the couch first to grab the knitted throw blanket and wrap it around your shoulders so that it covered your bare legs, and then you proceeded to answer the door. 
Miss Johnson, the sweet older woman that lived a few doors down, stood in front of you with a red and green plaid patterned tin of what you assumed were the Christmas cookies that she told you about the first time you met. When you and Steve moved into the building, she introduced herself on that first day and gave you a welcome basket of muffins that were probably the best muffins that both you and Steve had ever had, and she also mentioned that for the holidays she gave out cookies to people in the building.  
She smiled at you for a brief second before a surprised look crossed her face. “Hi– Oh, you look terrible. What happened?”
Somehow the brutal honesty actually felt more sweet and worried than rude; and it warmed your heart and simultaneously hurt it so fucking bad that she was the only older adult in your life that actually seemed to care. 
You let out a small cough. “Me and Steve are sick right now. Just a cold.”
“Oh no, that stinks,” She said with a frown, and then held the tin out toward you. “Here take these cookies and I’ll be right back. Let me go make you both some soup.”
You grabbed the tin and smiled at her. “Thank you so much for the cookies, but you don’t have to make us soup.” 
In all honesty, you would’ve loved soup at that moment because you and Steve hadn’t eaten all day aside from the two slices of buttered toast that he made around noon, since neither of you could really be bothered to make anything else. But, Miss Johnson had already made the cookies for you two, so you felt bad about her also doing this for you and Steve. 
She shook her head at you. “No, no, it’s not a problem at all. I know I already have all of the ingredients, so it’ll just take me fifteen minutes, twenty tops.”
You were about to assure her again that she really didn’t have to do that, but she was already walking away and heading back down the hall before any word could leave your mouth. 
There was something about the gesture that felt way too sweet and nice, and it made you wish that you had someone like her in your life when you were younger. And then that thought made you feel so fucking grateful that for the past almost ten years, you had Steve. 
You placed the cookie tin on the kitchen counter and then tightened your blanket around you. You could see from the large window that led out to the fire escape that the sun was beginning to set, and as you got closer and peaked below at the street, you saw that some snow still lingered on the ground from when it came down a few days ago; the same night that you and Steve sat out on the fire escape.
The sudden sound of Steve saying, “Please don’t go out there. I don’t wanna repeat this sick cycle,” made you turn around and look at your best friend. He had slipped on a hoodie, which was yours (although back in high school it technically had been his), and his hair was the messiest you’d seen it in a while, and that let you know exactly how bad he was probably feeling right then. 
“Don’t worry, I’m not going out there without an actual jacket anytime soon.”
“Okay, good,” He yawned and then smiled when he saw what was on the counter. “Miss Johnson brought the cookies?”
“Yes,” You said, walking back to the kitchen and watching as Steve opened up the tin. There were at least a dozen cookies in it; a mixture of Christmas trees, Santa Clauses, and snowflakes. “She also went to go make us soup since we’re sick.”
“She’s way too nice to us,” Steve said and grabbed one of the Santa Claus cookies.
“I agree,” You told him, deciding to grab a snowflake cookie for yourself. “Meanwhile, we’re horrible people and didn’t even think about getting her something for Christmas. Once we’re better we have to get her something.”
“Yeah. We can get her a nice sweater or cardigan,” Steve said, and you nodded at that suggestion; whenever either of you saw Miss Johnson she was almost always wearing some sort of fun and colorful cardigan so that idea felt right. He took another bite of the cookie in his hand and then looked at you. “Will this ruin our appetite?”
“Considering the fact that we’ve barely had anything to eat today since we’ve felt so shitty, I don’t think that there’s really an appetite to ruin.”
“Very true.”
The two of you migrated to the couch, bringing the cookie tin along with you, and mindlessly watched the Charlie Brown Christmas special that played on television as you ate some more cookies. 
When there was another knock on the door twenty minutes later, right as the Charlie Brown episode ended, you looked at Steve and pulled your legs off his lap. “Your turn to get it.” 
He nodded and got up, running a quick hand through his hair, which didn’t really do much to tame it, before opening the door. 
“Hi, Miss Johnson,” Steve said, and even though he was facing away from you, you could hear the smile in his voice. He received a smile back as she handed him a full tupperware of soup. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to make this for us.”
“It’s really no problem. I hope you two feel better soon,” She responded. “And also here are some tea bags. You guys should be drinking that too.” 
You watched as she put a few in Steve’s free hand. Neither you nor him really liked tea, but you weren’t about to tell Miss Johnson that when she was being so damn nice and thoughtful. 
“Thank you so much,” You said from the couch and smiled at her. “Also, we’ve already tried some of the cookies and they’re amazing.”
“Just wait until you try the chocolates I make for Valentine’s Day,” She said and you smiled even wider at that. 
“Can’t wait.”
She said her final goodbyes and headed back down the hall to her apartment after telling you both that you could knock on her door if you needed anything; more soup, medicine, etc. And that offer, which sounded completely genuine, only further confirmed the fact that you and Steve definitely needed to get her a gift as soon as possible. 
Steve pulled two bowls out of one of the cabinets and split the soup, which you then learned was chicken noodle, evenly in both of them and then handed one over to you. 
“Thanks,” You said as he also gave you a spoon and then sat down on the couch again. 
He took control of the TV remote and you didn’t argue when he stopped on a channel that was playing a James Bond movie. After finishing your soup, you maneuvered around so that you were laying down and your head was in his lap and you fell asleep just like that. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Another set of hours passed, although you were unaware of exactly how many. You were woken up by the feeling of Steve softly stroking your ear; which he knew would always either annoy you or make you laugh because of how much it tickled— most of the time it was both. This time was no different. 
You were laughing as you shooed his hand away. “Stop that.”
“I needed to wake you up.”
You looked up at him and rubbed your eyes. “What time is it?”
“Almost ten.”
You nodded at his answer and then suddenly realized through your half asleep daze why he decided to wake you right then. “Oh, we have to open the presents.”
From that very first Christmas you spent together, it was agreed upon that you would do your gift exchange at night— once you both were done being stuck all day with your parents and other family members that you never saw any other time of the year. 
You’d sneak off to his house once those family members were gone and your parents were asleep, or he’d come to yours, and then you’d exchange gifts and almost always end up talking about nothing until the morning. 
You sat up. “I’m just now realizing that we could’ve done it earlier today.”
“Yeah, but that would’ve broken the tradition,” Steve said and you agreed with that, there was something about always doing the gift exchange at night that felt like the only way to do it at this point.
You went into your bedroom and grabbed Steve’s present that you had stashed away in your closet. When you left your room, you saw that he was already sitting next to the small Christmas tree that sat lit up in the corner close by the window and he was holding what you rightly assumed was your gift from him. 
The tree was so small that it didn’t make sense to put gifts under it, so that was why you kept the one you got for Steve in your room and he had yours in his. The only things that did sit next to the tree and slightly under it were the little presents that you both got for Harold the Hamster. 
“Merry Christmas, Stevie,” You said, sitting down next to him and giving him his gift. He let out a laugh when he noticed that the green wrapping paper had pictures of polar bears wearing Santa hats on it— when you had seen it weeks ago at the store, you thought it was adorably funny and knew you had to get it.
He handed over the gift he got you and the sight of his messy wrapping job made you smile. “Merry Christmas.” 
The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A happy yelp emitted from your lips when you saw the vinyl of The Breakfast Club soundtrack. It was quite literally the perfect gift— you had held the tape of the movie that you rented from Steve’s Family Video hostage for a month straight when they first got it in, and sometimes you’d watch the movie just to hear the songs.
“After how many times you watched the movie this year, this felt very fitting,” Steve told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the red bow that was placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.
You looked at him and smiled. “I hope you’re prepared to hear this at least three times a week for the next few months.” 
He laughed a bit. “I knew you were going to say that, and I’ve already accepted the fact that I will have to hear Don’t You Forget About Me on an endless loop for a while.” 
“Good,” You said, still smiling, and then you bumped your knee with his. “Open yours.”
Steve finally started opening your gift for him, tearing the wrapping paper off to reveal a shoebox, which had a new pair of white Nikes inside. They were the same as the pair he already had that had the red “swoosh” on the side, but that pair was now a lot less white since he had them since Sophomore year of high school and he’d wear them almost religiously. 
“It’s time to retire the ones you’ve had for the past three years,” You said as he pulled out one of the sneakers. “Oh, also, there’s a note at the bottom of the box.” 
Steve put the one sneaker down and then grabbed the small notecard with your handwriting on it that was buried underneath the other one. “‘This is long overdue. You probably should’ve gotten rid of your last pair after the basketball season ended Senior year. And speaking of basketball, after your many years of begging and pleading I will finally grant your wish and play basketball with you. You’re welcome. Shit, I already regret writing this.’” He looked at you, a smile growing on his face. “You’re serious?” 
“Sadly, yes,” You answered, and when he smiled wider, you said, “It’s only gonna happen one time and just for a couple of hours, and if I break my leg or arm or anything else during this, I will sue you, Harrington.” 
You had two left feet when it came to any sort of sport— in a way, it was funny how clumsy you’d get whenever you had to play anything— and Steve knew that, but for perhaps the entirety of your friendship he still always tried to convince you to play basketball with him, and you always said no because why would you ever do something that you knew would only lead to embarrassment? Even if it was just with your best friend. He’d seen more than enough of your accidental embarrassing moments, and in your mind there was no need for him to also see one that could easily be avoided. 
But, you knew that finally doing this would make him happy, and that made your imminent embarrassment feel somewhat worth it.
“You’re not gonna break anything, but if you do, I’ll completely understand if you decide to sue me,” Steve said and you could hear the joking undertones in his voice. “So, when can we play?”
“You can choose the day, but please wait until we’re not sick and when it’s not freezing cold outside.” 
He nodded at that. “Okay, deal.”
“What did you get Harold?” You asked as you picked up the present next to the tree that Steve had wrapped.
“A new wheel,” He answered and that made you laugh.
“I also got him a new wheel.”
It actually wasn’t entirely surprising that you and Steve had the same gift idea. You two loved Harold with your entire hearts, but at least twice a week he’d wake one or both of you up at three in the morning by running on the current wheel he had, which was the squeakiest thing in the world.
Steve looked over at where Harold’s cage sat on the coffee table in the living room area. “Maybe he’ll like having two.” 
“Yeah,” You nodded. “Maybe he’ll designate one for daytime running and the other for nighttime running.”
Steve smiled at your joking statement. “Exactly.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
542 notes · View notes
ao3-shenanigans · 2 months
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I didn't know you were an English tutor, that's pretty cool! When you were critiquing others works, what kinds of critiques would you make? I often find myself struggling to give critiques outside of basic grammar corrections and sentence structures. I'd like to give more in-depth critiques and suggestions when beta reading, but don't really know where to start.
Hi! Good question!
It is important to note that I primarily helped with academic papers.
When I tutored, I often would ask the student what they were looking for in a critique first and foremost.
Aside from grammar, I’d look for fluid, clear and easy to follow writing. Being able to understand the text is the most important.
After that, if the student wishes, we’d be looking for knit-picking things such as words used too often or too frequently with the intent to get rid of “crutch words”.
Sometimes, if the overall pice isn’t working and it feels like trying to cram it into something it’s not, then the only way to fix things is to go back and rework the outline and be willing to scrap things. This is not a fun thing to do, but it it works.
Additionally it’s rather important to make sure the paper complies with the rubric. As a beta reader, it’s good to know the goals your author has in mind, from there you can asses and be in conversation with the author as to how well the chapter met those goals and come up with ideas to better meet them if possible
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beartitled · 26 days
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What is "normal" Bill Cipher like? How come he wears glasses, and what are Mabel and Stan's reactions when Stanford and Dipper kidnapped the baby version of the evil dorito?
I imagine him to be a huge nerd about Astronomy and just an overall pretty curious guy about everything in the world
(the guy probably has 13 phd’s in different branches of science)
I headcanon him desperately trying to figure out where he came from/his origin/parents
But after his numerous attempts resolving in more questions and despair, he just completely gave up (don’t talk to him, he angy)
Glasses were just a fun addition to his design
He either read too much books and now needs a prescription, or just wears it as an eye protection (Mabel is not so careful with throwing glitters around, he remembers the pain. never again.)
Honestly I have no idea how, who and how long it took to raise Bill
So it’s completely up to you interpretation
If we imagine Ford literally brought triangle Baby to Mystery Shack: Mabel would play around with him and knit him a sweater, and Stan? God keep the child away from him. He would’ve taken that gun shot
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amywritesthings · 3 months
Text
did i cross the line ?
pairing: armin arlert x f!reader ( attack on titan ) word count: 1K+ warnings: 18+ for overall context; au - modern universe, slight dubcon due to intoxication, alcohol, college party, eren yeager being a shit, implied slow burn friends to lovers, ✨ tension author's note: i was drinking wine and wrote this up in 30 min?
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You don't know how you ended up here -- tucked away in a closet of a fraternity house you want no part of, barely finding your breath as trembling hands hold either side of your face like you're something precious; something that can break.
You smell the distinct scent of cheap beer and a mirage of other liquors mixing with your own minty tooth paste. Your head is spinning, but you're sober.
Sometime between getting the panicked text from Armin ( i don't know why i'm getting dragged to this thing ) and seeing Eren's first private Instagram story ( look at @/aarlert getting insane! ) you had packed up your bag and save your friend from total embarrassment.
If this is Eren's doing, then he's been begging to drag Armin to Titan Frat for months now -- some bullshit excuse of wanting to prove that Armin can be fun, but you've always thought Armin was fun.
He's your favorite person; your best friend since the start of university. He's funny. He's compassionate.
He's much too hard on himself, constantly worrying, but you like to think you both cancel out one another's anxieties.
His roommate, Eren Yeager, liked to joke that he was in love with you. You didn't quite believe it -- couldn't, not when you have your own deep-seated crush in the back of your mind.
So somehow between making your way into this chaotic house where people dance, drink, and fuck the way through the hallways like they're on a world-ending marathon, you find him: his yellow-blonde hair is a dead giveaway, wipsy and faded at the nape of his neck. He's holding a red cup looking wildly out of place in this sea of extroverts wearing a faded flannel and band tee. You noticed he left his glasses at home, so you can only imagine how poor his eyesight is.
"Armin!" you shout over the music, and he turns on instinct. His eyes find yours, narrowing then widening. The relief passes like a crashing wave, as if you're the soothing balm to his nerves.
"What -- What are you doing here?" he yelps, abandoning his red cup to a table full of forgotten cups. His hands reach for your face, rendering you speechless.
Armin doesn't even like to bump shoulders, much less touch you. He's staunchly unaffectionate physically with a gift of gab -- he'll tell you how much he adores you, how important you are to him, but he's not the touchy-feely friend.
Still, you're stunned when his fingers run along your cheeks, cupping your face.
"I saw Eren's story," you say over the music, trying to lean closer.
His brows knit. "What?"
"I saw Eren's story!"
"I can't really hear -- hold on!"
Dropping his hands from his face, he quickly searches your sides -- there -- and grabs your hand. Again, the sudden proximity of him is knocking off your axis.
He navigates the hallways like he knows where he's going, cautious to protect you from touching the couples making out against walls, totally oblivious to the world around them. He covers your elbow, your shoulder, as if he's your own personal bubble.
Careful.
Always so goddamn careful with you.
He tugs on a bedroom door. Locked.
Armin groans, before trying another more slender door.
It's a closet, empty and seemingly refurbished. His gentle blue eyes, stormy from consuming liquor, look to you.
"Is this okay?"
"To what, talk in?"
"Yeah," he exhales, his pale cheeks peppered with a pink hue. "Pretty sure all the other rooms are occupied."
Huffing a sigh, you slip into the closet and turn. "Armin, you practically smell like a liquor cabinet."
"I know," he sheepishly confesses, closing the door behind him. He's only slightly taller than you, but not by much. "Eren, he..."
He's pushy, is what you imagine he wants to say.
Constantly badgering poor Armin to conform to things he isn't interested in just so he has a buddy to pledge with for rush season this year.
"Are you okay?" you softly ask, and Armin lets out a tiny huff of a laugh.
"Of course I'm fine," he mumbles. "You're here now."
Even in the small light of this closet you see his eyes widen, realizing he said it out loud. You try not to laugh, lips pursed together to avoid it, but he laughs for you.
"Shit," he exhales. "Okay. I stand by what I said."
"Yeah?"
"God, yeah, are you kidding?" Armin asks with a cute scrunch of his nose. "You make everything a thousand times better."
You lean against the wall, laughing softly with him. "Well, I appreciate that. Are you sure you're okay? On a scale of one to ten--"
"You don't have to take care of me," he reassures, moving closer to him. "You always take care of me. I-- I should be taking care of you."
Blinking twice, you look up at him, but he's busy staring at your lips.
"Min?"
"Uh-huh?"
"What's going on in that empty head of yours?"
"A lot, actually, if you can believe it," he admits. "So... so much, but I can't..."
Armin's always had difficulty verbalizing what he wants. What he's thinking. You've always been so patient, allowing him to unravel the ball of yarn in his head until the red string straightens itself out.
His hands slide up to your face again, as if magnetic. You make the smallest noise of surprise, but it isn't unwanted.
"I kept seeing all of those people," he murmurs, leaning in closer. His breath tickles your face. "Kissing, touching, in the halls of this damn place... all I wanted to do was to text you."
His thumb runs along your cheek like he's craving to know you, memorize you, the way he's memorized every note in your shared classes.
You make no sudden movement, as if the trance will somehow awaken Armin from this new warpath he's carved for himself. "Why didn't you?"
"Because I can't really see the buttons right now," he admits with a tiny, embarrassed laugh. "But you still came for me, like you knew I wanted you."
Oh.
That's a loaded double entendre.
Your eyes round, watching as he leans closer.
"Min?"
He doesn't answer right away.
Instead, Armin drops one of his hands to run a gentle finger up your arm -- it's subtle, the manicured edge of his fingernail running deliciously against your skin.
Like he's afraid to touch.
He's always so afraid.
But so are you.
"The things I wish I could do," he exhales, his nose ever so lightly brushing against yours. "Things I could do -- if you'd let me."
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beamiesbuddies · 5 months
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Part 2: A Dream of an Autumn Garden
A few more photos of Mr. Morpheus, continuing from my post here!
As I said on the other photoset, I'm very happy & proud of him! I'm happy I decided to take my time to get him just how I wanted & edit the photos I took nicely. I hope you all love him too. Sweet dreams~
I have included a bunch of Cool Facts about how I made him under the cut if you are so inclined!
Started: Late Jan 2022 / Finished: Dec 30 2022
Approx work hours- 273 hours (worked on average every 3rd day out of 274 days; averaged 3h/session)
Times I remade something because I messed it up/wasn't happy with it: Hands- 2; Feet- 2; Head- 2.5; Body- 1; Clothes: 3
Pattern: trial, error & determination
Height: 3ft tall
Materials:
stretch jersey knit (body)
polyfill (stuffing)
brushed out acrylic yarn (hair)
star sapphire x2 (eyes)
pipe cleaner (hand armature)
wooden dowels/18 gauge wire (elbow/arm skeleton that keeps snapping I may add)
acrylic paint/pastels (shading & details)
acrylic thread (body sculpting & upper eyelashes)
stretch velvet/velvet burnout, cotton (clothes)
Fun facts:
his look was inspired by his overall appearance in the comics; I particularily like the depictions done by Jill Thompson, Mike Dringenberg & Marc Hempel!
his arms and legs are jointed in the same way as many teddy bears are: you use a washer, nut & bolt to butt-up the limb against the body internally and it gives the limbs full rotation. First time I have tried the method and it's definitely something I'll try again!
I had no idea how I was going to do the inset eyes, but I was determined to have them as some sort of stone. I had to redo his first head completely because I cut too far in! Eventually I got it to work by creating a "backcushion" with clay for the stones, and then closed and sculpted the eyelids overtop to secure them in.
You can't see in most of my photos but his eyes are star sapphire: when light hits them correctly, it causes a ✨to appear just like his eyes in the comics~!
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making his hand & feet were a challenge, especially thinking about where to put the needle through to sculpt tendons, nails, etc (and also deciding how detailed to get without looking strange). I think I learned a lot tho and I'm very proud of the hands
my favorite sculpted parts are the collar bone/chest, the right hand & the nose~
because the skin is white, he gets very dirty with his black clothes, so I had to line all of them in white. He also has to soak in bleach once in a while to maintain his complexion (LOL)
A signature somehwere on his person xD
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Thank you all again for your nice tags & comments so far on my work. If you guys would like for me to share some behind the scenes photos of this photoshoot, or WIP photos of me making him, let me know and if there's enough interest maybe I'll make a post down the road!
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olderthannetfic · 2 months
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I know the response to this will be "WRITE FOR YOURSELF!!!1!" but when I look at things I worked really hard to write that have zero comments and the things I threw out there on a whim that actually appear to have made people happy, I feel so much less motivated to write the former. I know I'm supposed to be "doing it for myself" but I don't know what that means. It feels like those 90's movies saying "be yourself" or my therapist saying "be authentic". It's a nice enough sounding thing, but what does it mean? Does it mean writing in obscurity is more pure or more artsy? Is it supposed to be more moral and demonstrate integrity?
There's an agreement in fandom that writing for others is bad. It's impure. It's selfish. But no one has really ever explained why. Nor am I getting much out of writing a story that means a lot to me and getting dead silence in response. I like entertaining others and making them smile.
I can practically feel the, "uh, back in my day fic was hosted on a server and we didn't see hit counts let alone get comments and we were happy with it because we weren't whiny and in need of validation like Gen Z!!!1!" people gearing up to yell in the replies that they're good writers who don't care about comments. That's great for them, and I mean that sincerely. But equally sincerely, how are you supposed to maintain passion for something no one else is interested in? I've been told it's better to get validation via hit counts or bookmarks but numbers don't really do anything for me. Someone saying, "I loved this! Can't wait to see what happens next." can make not just my day but my week.
I know what people say. Fandom isn't a popularity context. It's not social media. You're not supposed to like talking to people about fandom things. But... I do. And the utter silence that is modern fandom - of the 100 last published fics in my fandom, only 10 have comments, and only 4 have regular commenters - is just really not fun to me.
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Yes, lots of people do think it ~demonstrates integrity~. People who never finish anything.
People who actually succeed at making art will say superficially similar things, but what they mean is "If you write things you aren't actually interested in, you will either burn out or the art won't actually be satisfying to the audience or both".
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The thing about back in the day is that we only got comments. You're dead wrong about that part. Yes, people whined that there wasn't enough feedback, and they will continue to whine about this until the end of time, but your description misses the most important part about the rose-colored glasses and what people are trying to explain about the past in most of those posts:
We couldn't see the lurkers (hit counts) but we did see some actual interactions. This allowed us to imagine that the comment rate was way higher than it actually was and to see fandom as a close-knit community (which was maybe somewhat more accurate than now but never as true as people believed).
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You have fundamentally misunderstood what the (saner) posts about this are saying.
You shouldn't care about overall numbers. You should care about meaningful social interactions. Obviously, people like connecting with others via art.
Fandom is not a popularity contest. That's why you should enjoy talking to actual peers about things. Genuine connection is not about being a celebrity with fans: it's about making friends.
--
Some fandoms do have interactions. Maybe if you start interacting with others' works, that will help. Maybe you need a different fandom. "Modern fandom" isn't this total wasteland with no interaction, nor do most people find a total lack of it fun.
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