#sorry didn't really think about what 'skate' is and the first thing that I thought up of is ice skating

[colonelarr0w]

Hiiii i really like reading some angst stuffs so heres my idea loll!

What about reader never felt like they were ever loved romantically and has been quite the loner for a while. So, to have Gojo confess to the reader has reader confused, but quite happy, but will soon find out that its a dare and Gojo only has the end of the year to make reader date him! (Just say the current month is near december loll)

But as time goes by, Gojo starts to actually have feelings for reader and suddenly reader overheard their convo of Gojo with his friends about the dare...

(PLS IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SPECIFIC THISIS ONE OF MY FIRST TIMES REQUESTING SMTHHH. BTW YOU CAN CHANGE THE GOJO TO ANYONE ELSE :3AND ALSO YOU CAN CHOOSE WETHER TO HAVE COMFORT OR NAH. AND THANKS FOR GIVING YOUR TIME TO READ THIS HAVE A NICE DAYY)

-🍰

Sypnosis - Gojo was already known to be a heartbreaker, but you didn't stop to think for a second that maybe -- just maybe -- he was trying to break your heart too.

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, Gojo is a MAJOR dick in this one, angst

Word Count - 3.1k

A/N - Hi Anon! (STOP IM CRYING I LOVE EMOJI ANONS SO MUCH) So you made the mistake of giving me an angst prompt while also saying that I could maybe add comfort. I will be doing no such thing. Kisses!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Satoru Gojo was, by every single standard, a lady’s man.  

And you, by every single standard, were the complete opposite of every man’s “ideal type”. 

How you managed to find yourself in a situation where you told others, “I’m dating Satoru Gojo,” felt like a fever dream constructed by the hardest drug.  

The way in which he asked you out was — well — Satoru Gojo. A grand white banner with your name scrawled into it, underneath it the words: Go out with me?  

Of course you accepted, though you were thoroughly confused. You had always been an observer from the shadows, not emerging unless it was absolutely necessary.  

To have the Satoru Gojo ask you out in front of a gaggle of people was off putting — and certainly not anything that you had expected.  

But none of that stopped you from saying yes, which made the snowy-haired male’s smile widen three times in size — if that was even possible.  

“C’mon Satoru, it’s an easy 2,500 Yen,” Geto says, a sly smirk curling the corner of his mouth upward as he leans over the back of the couch. 

Gojo sighs, jutting out his bottom lip as one of his hands busies itself with running through his hair. It wasn’t a terrible bet — even though the payoff didn’t exactly feel worth it.  

“2,500 Yen to ask her out?” Gojo confirms, turning his head and glancing over the rims of his glasses. Geto smirks again, turning his phone and flashing a picture of you at Gojo, just to make sure that he would be asking out the right person. 

“2,500 Yen,” Geto nods. Gojo sighs, his body slumping forward dramatically. Geto grins again, watching his best friend crack down — no way was he turning down a bet that he could easily secure. 

“Fine, you have a deal,” Gojo holds his hand out, failing to hold back the smirk that curls his mouth upward as Geto slaps his hand against Gojo’s. 

The two shake on it, and the bet is made. 

But, of course, you were oblivious to all of that. You believed that, for the very first time, someone looked at you in a way that wasn’t strictly platonic. Someone loved you — really, truly loved you. 

And what an extravagant partner Gojo was, buying you small trinkets that he believed you would like, taking you to restaurants that you had looked at on the street for a moment too long — he had even forced himself to learn how to ice skate because you mentioned offhandedly that it would be nice to skate with someone.  

For the first time in a very long time, you felt connected to someone. Conversations flowed so easily between you both, never forced or uncomfortable. It was as if you had known each other your entire lives.  

Gojo knew that it was fake — you thought it was truly real.  

< … > 

“(Y/N)! There you are!” Gojo calls out with a flashy wave of his arm. Once you’re in reach of him, he latches onto you, nose nuzzling into your hair. 

You let out a startled squeak at the force of his body against yours, but immediately loosen up and return his embrace, snuggling as deeply as you can into his arms.  

“Satoru!” you laugh out breathlessly, squeezing his shoulders as he lifts you from the ground, easily spinning the both of you in a circle. “You act like you haven’t seen me in years.” 

Gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, setting you down but keeping his arms locked around your waist. He gaze meets yours through the darkened lenses of his glasses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  

“Oh god, I know that look,” you mutter teasingly, which earns you an affectionate pinch to your side — one that you swat him away for.  

“You wound me,” Gojo sasses back, releasing you only to place a hand flat against his chest as if he had been stabbed. You roll your eyes, laughing breathily at his antics.  

“What do you want to do tonight? It’s date night,” you remind him, watching as his face breaks into a bright smile. He reaches for you again, lifting your hand and twirling you around before he tugs you to his chest. 

“I was thinking-“ he begins in a sing-song tone. You raise an eyebrow at him, which he quickly leans in to peck. “-we go to the movies, get some cheap froyo, and crash in your dorm.” 

You smile at him, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him. 

“Yes please!” 

< … > 

“The movies? Froyo? God, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re falling for her,” Geto mocks the motion of throwing up, earning a laugh from the snowy-haired boy that stands next to him.  

Gojo rolls his eyes, catching the basketball that Geto throws at his chest. He bounces it once against the ground before taking a shot, smirking as it swishes inaudibly into the basket.  

“I want her to at least believe it,” Gojo responds with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. Geto rolls his eyes, biting back the chuckle that rises in his throat. “What? I’m not lying.” 

“No, I know you’re not lying,” Geto bends to pick up the abandoned basketball, bouncing it against the ground and taking a shot of his own — which misses. 

“So then why the sudden comment?” 

“Because of the look in your eyes whenever someone mentions her or whenever you see her,” Geto says plainly, turning to cross his arms at Gojo.  

He purses his lips together, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he silently urges Geto to continue. How he looks at you? 

Geto sighs through his nose, then lifting his fingers to pinch at its bridge. The basketball is long abandoned now, rolling into the center of the gym and remaining there.  

“Every time she calls out to you with that — stupid nickname, you brighten up like a dog who’s seeing his owner,” Geto points out. Gojo can feel the tips of his ears burn red at that — because even he knew that it was true. 

“Toru! There you are!” you call out affectionately, crossing the training fields and practically jumping into Gojo’s awaiting arms. 

He smiles warmly as your face nestles into the junction between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiarity of your scent and holding you close to him. 

“That isn’t true,” he murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck. Geto stands still for a moment, staring at Gojo with a look that could easily slaughter an entire town.  

“No? How about when she made you lunch that one time?” Geto raises his eyebrow — his eyes visually calling bullshit as Gojo’s cheeks burn the same shade of red as his ears.  

“Ta-da!” you smile widely as you present Gojo with the intricately put-together bento box. He takes it from your hands, allowing his fingers to brush against your own for a moment too long — an action that brought a light blush to your cheeks.  

He smiles down at the bento you had prepared for him, feeling his heart swell at the idea that someone cared enough about him to sit down and put so much thought into preparing him a lunch. Gojo is quick to then lean in, pecking your cheek and smiling widely at the dark red hue that coats your face. 

“That’s…different,” Gojo tries to argue, but Geto is quick to call out his bluff, laughing loudly in his friend’s face and striding towards the center of the gym to retrieve the abandoned basketball. He bends, scooping it into his palms and bouncing it twice against the ground.  

“Oh, I’m sure that it is,” Geto rolls his eyes, twisting his body and shooting the basketball — already displaying annoyance when it misses yet again.  

Gojo sighs, the puff of air he releases blowing his bangs from his face. He watches as Geto goes to retrieve the basketball, bouncing it once before roughly checking it to Gojo.  

“Careful Satoru, I wouldn’t want you to fall for her,” Geto teases, feeling himself smirk as Gojo’s hands catch the basketball. The snowy-haired male rolls his eyes in response, bouncing the ball. 

“That won’t happen, trust me,” Gojo bites back, not failing to notice the knowing glint in Geto’s eyes.  

“Sure it won’t.” 

< … > 

Hey! I’m at the theatre, where are you? 

READ 

Satoru? 

READ 

I’m just assuming you’re running late, just text me when you’re here! 

DELIVERED 

Puffing out the air that you held in your cheeks, you stow your phone away into your pocket, eyes silently scanning the front entrance of the theatre. Maybe you missed him? No, there was no tuft of snowy-white hair anywhere in the crowd — surely he was just running late.  

You shuffle on your feet, adjusting the small bag that you had brought with you. The interior is stuffed with snacks that both you and Gojo enjoyed — including his favorite from the local convenience store. You smile to yourself, already picturing the wide smile that would cross his face when you presented him with the snacks.  

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, which you all but dive for with a speed that feels almost inhuman. You stare down at the illuminated screen, heart deflating as you realize it’s only a message from your mother, checking in and asking you how your date with Gojo was going.  

Lifting a shaky hand to your eyes, you wipe away the tears that cling to your bottom lash line. You text your mother back, lying to her about the state of the date and pushing your phone back into your pockets. You glance back down at your open purse, blinking back your tears at the sight of the snacks — what a waste. 

< … >  

“Sato—“ 

You pause just outside of the classroom doors, resting your palms against the sliding door and peering curiously inside. Your eyebrows pinch together, eyes narrowing as you listen intently to the conversation shared between Gojo and Geto, both of whom seemed to be in the middle of — maybe — arguing with one another.  

“How much longer am I keeping this up for?” Gojo all but whines, leaning back in the seat that he was occupying, his feet propped up on the desk as he releases an annoyed huff.  

Geto chuckles, rubbing a hand over his face as he sits on the desk directly in front of Gojo, folding his legs over one another and smirking down at his best friend. Gojo sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face as he leans forward, his sunglasses slightly slipping down the bridge of his nose.  

“Why? Getting bored?” Geto raises an eyebrow at Gojo, lifting his arms to cross them firmly over his chest. Gojo rolls his eyes yet again, releasing a deepened sigh that only has Geto releasing the chuckle that he had been holding in.  

“I’m getting tired,” Gojo mocks a dramatic yawn, throwing his arms into the air and leaning back in his chair. Geto raises an eyebrow at the answer, curious now. 

“Tired?” 

“Exhausted. I don’t think you understand Suguru, she’s so desperately clingy and just — I can’t keep up with it,” Gojo explains in exasperation, rubbing his hands over his face and digging his fingers into the skin of this temples, rubbing them in slow circles.  

You feel your heart crack the more that Gojo speaks — listening quietly as he lists off all of the things that he seemingly hates about you. Your eyes burn with tears, and suddenly every ounce of love that you ever felt for Gojo seep out of you in waves. 

Had he felt that way about you the whole time? 

“Hey, you were the one that said yes. You could’ve dropped the bet,” Geto shrugs his shoulders, an action that earns him an annoyed kick from Gojo.  

“It’s 2,500 Yen. I’m not saying no to that,” Gojo reminds his friend, waving a finger in his face. Geto chuckles breathily, but pauses at an unfamiliar sound — a choked cry. His head whips around in an attempt to locate the source of the sound, feeling his heart drop to the deepest depths of his stomach at the sight of a retreating figure by the classroom's doors.  

Gojo follows Geto's wandering gaze, eyebrows knitting together in confusion at the sudden change in his friend's facial expression. "Shit." Is all that Geto says before he moves to the door, peering out of it just in time to see your figure turn the farthest corner of the hallway – then vanishing.  

Geto's eyes flicker to meet Gojo's as the latter leans his chin onto Geto's shoulder, staring at the spot that you had just disappeared from.  

"What happened?" Gojo inquires curiously, not failing to notice the way that Geto's spine stands as stiff as cardboard. The dark-haired male swallows the lump in his throat – they were both royally fucked.  

"We're fucked." 

< ... >  

"There, there, c'mon (Y/N), don't let this--" 

"He lied to me!" You rub your hands roughly over your tear-filled eyes, feeling your chest tighten as you look away from Utahime's concerned gaze. Her eyebrows furrow together in worry, eyes silently taking you in as you curl into yourself.  

She would be lying if she said that she wasn't downright pissed at what Gojo had done to you. After listening to your tearful ramble about what you heard, any and all respect that she had for her snowy-haired classmate went completely out of the window. 

Not that there was much respect there in the first place.  

"So how much of what he said did he actually mean?" Your voice is a broken cry, trembling in a way that has Utahime reaching out to comfortingly lace her fingers with your own.  

"I don't know," she whispers in response, not knowing how to help you. You turn your head away from her, sniffing and wiping your nose with the cloth of your sleeve. "I'm sorry (Y/N)." 

You shake your head, breath trembling as you grip at your knees. You screw your eyes shut, still seeing his affectionate smile behind your eyelids – you wish that you could forget it completely. You can still feel him too; you can feel his arms wrapped around you and his lips as they press affectionately to your cheek.  

You begin to wonder how much effort he actually put into your dates, you begin to wonder if his affectionate touches were genuine, you begin to wonder if it was him writing his text messages out or if it was someone else entirely. Did he ever care about you? 

"Hey." 

You glance up at Utahime, sniffling quietly as she reaches a hand out, laying her palm against your cheek and thumbing away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. Her heart breaks at the sight of you – but her heart also yells angrily at the idea that Gojo would toy with you for a measly 2,500 Yen.  

She knew that he was an asshole – everyone did. But she didn't think he was that big of an asshole.  

"How about me and you go out? I'll even text Mei��Mei and Shoko," Utahime offers, smiling again at you. You sniffle, cheeks reddened by your tears. Your eyes are puffy, lashes still wet with tears that take their sweet time in dripping down your face.  

"Can we stay in instead?"  

Utahime nods, smiling again at you. Her arms extend, wrapping around you and tugging you into her chest, squeezing affectionately at you. You sink into her embrace, face pressed comfortably into her shoulder.  

"Yeah, of course we can." 

< ... >  

"You're such a dick!" Utahime yells in a fit of rage, shoving her hands against Gojo's chest and glaring daggers at him as he stumbles backwards. He stares at her incredulously, eyebrows raised to a point that his forehead is wrinkled five times over.  

He hadn't expected this behavior from the usually calm and collected girl – but the way that she had stormed at him screaming her head off told him that he had royally screwed up.  

Over his shoulder, Geto watches knowingly. He knows that he'll likely be yelled at too, so in mental preparation, he remains completely silent, not wanting Utahime to turn her rage on him prematurely.  

"What is this about?" Gojo asks genuinely, his eyes narrowed in confusion as Utahime angrily takes a step back from him, restraining herself from actively strangling him.  

"What is this – so you just have no idea what you did to (Y/N)? God, you're dense!" Utahime all but screams, throwing her hands up in a fit of rage. 

Gojo narrows his eyes, then they widen – shit. How the fuck did you find out? 

"What do you mean?" He pauses for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What about (Y/N)?" 

"Oh, don't act so clueless! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Utahime jabs a finger at Gojo's chest, her eyes burning with a rage that he had genuinely never seen in her before. She takes a brave step towards him – in return, he takes a step back.  

"I don't--" 

"Does 2,500 Yen sound familiar to you?" Utahime raises an eyebrow at him. He deadpans, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and feeling his heart sink.  

His silence tells her everything that she needs to know. She straightens, shooting a pointed glare to Geto as well – resulting in him looking anywhere but her direction, gaze flickering around wildly.  

She turns her attention back to Gojo, looking him up and down with an expression of nothing but pure disgust. He winces at the glint in her eyes – God, he had really screwed up.  

"You're both disgusting," Utahime spits venomously, then turning on her heel and promptly striding away from both males. Gojo turns, exchanging a worried yet remorseful glance in Geto's direction. His friend only swallows, they had both royally screwed up. 

< ... >  

Gojo suffered with the aftermath of you hearing his conversation – you avoided him like he had been infected with some kind of infectious disease. Any room he entered, you exited. Any time he called out your name with a polite wave, you turned your nose up and continued walking.  

In a way, you pretended that he simply didn't exist – that the person waving to you or trying to interact with you was nothing but a phantom, one that you ignored as if it was the only thing that you knew how to do.  

"(Y/N)! Hey, can we--" 

You stride past him, shoulder knocking against his own as you exit the classroom. He stands silently at its center, lowering his hand back to his side – he had wanted to reach out for you, but something inside of him told him to simply leave you be.  

And the day that he saw you happily hanging off of Nanami's arm was the day that he realized – loving someone from afar was the worst pain of all.  

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Caught

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: masterbation, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, implied cockwarming, Steve talking his shit, I think that's all- this is unedited

Genre: fluff and smut

Summary: As the title implies, you get caught... by Steve lol

***

You sigh to yourself as you sink into the warm water in your bathtub. It's been a long day and you're relieved to finally unwind with your bubbles, candles, and music. Truthfully moving into the tower means you don't get much time to yourself and you're in dire need of some self care. You take a moment to trail your hands across your skin, first over your neck, down your chest, then over your tummy until finally, your fingers skate across your sex. Your breath hitches when your digits brush against your clit. You dip your middle fingers between your folds, caressing your inner walls. You start slow, just allowing your body to catch up to your mind. As the slickness of your arousal grows, your movements adjust accordingly, pumping faster as the minutes go on. Your chest heaves from your ministrations, quiet whimpers escaping your parted lips. Now, properly horny, you pivot your attention to your clit, a louder moan leaving you at the feeling of your fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You almost scream when your bathroom door swings open suddenly.

"Steven Grant Rogers what the hell are you doing in here?!" You gasp adjusting yourself to look less compromised under the bubbles. If there was such thing as a guardian angel they'd make sure by some magic Steve hadn't heard you before coming in despite his super soldier senses.

"I- heard a sound... and I was concerned." He says. Guess that's a no on the guardian angel thing. Awesome.

"And you didn't want to knock before rushing in here?" You blink at him.

"Well- if you were in trouble that'd be a waste of time."

"You know if you were looking for an excuse to see me naked I would've much preferred you just ask." You joke, hoping the comment will make him embarrassed enough to rush out with an apology so this conversation can be over.

"Wait I- but that's not- sorry what?!" Steve fumbles over his reply, shaking his head at you.

"I'm joking Steve, this is very awkward. I'm dispelling tension." You explain. He frowns at you for a moment and then his eyes widen.

"Oh I'm interrupting....." He trails off oddly.

"My bath. Yes. Thank you for noticing finally?"

"No that's- that's um- that's not what I meant." He says clearing his throat.

"Well what are you talking about then Rogers?" You ask.

"I just picked up on what the sound I heard was actually about. I am so sorry about interrupting."

"It's fine dude, you can just- leave." You say. Or if you really wanted to make it up to me you could help me pick up where I left off.

"That was a joke right?" Steve falters.

"What?" You frown at him.

"About me... helping you."

"Oh- that was an inside thought. You can just- disregard it."

"To clarify, you don't actually want my help. Do you?"

"Are you offering?"

"I guess I am."

"Don't bite off more than you can chew, Steve." You warn. Steve sits on the edge of the bathtub.

"You're underestimating me y/n."

"Well- you're welcome to prove me wrong, if you think you can."

Steve rolls up the sleeve of his shirt and plunges his arm into the water. His hand quickly finds your leg beneath the water. He glides up your thigh, stopping just short of your center.

"Wait, I need you to understand that if we do this that's it you know. If I fuck you, I'm keeping you."

"Then you'd better make me want to be kept." You say, challenge clear in your voice. You catch Steve's eyebrow twitch up momentarily but instead of quipping back he tilts his head and slides his hand the rest of the way up your leg, fingers dipping into your wet heat easily. You take in a sharp breath as his fingers curl against the roof of your inner walls.

"I'm going to find out every little thing that makes you tick." Steve says softly, though his fingers are quickly gaining speed between your legs.

"You'd need more than a few hours for that one darling." You say breathily, struggling to respond with his ministrations, his shirtsleeve darkening as water sloshes against it, his earlier attempt at preventing that proving fruitless. Steve pivots his attention, his fingers drawing up to rub tight circles against your clit and you throw your head back with a moan. Your hands clutch the side of the tub as he touches you, your whole body buzzing from the heat between your thighs.

"I'm sure I can spare the time." He hums.

"Oh fuck-" You jolt, feeling your orgasm build under his touch.

"Come on princess, I can tell you're close. Let go for me." He says. Your body tenses momentarily before your back arches as your orgasm washes over you. Steve steadily works you through it, only pulling his fingers from you when the spasms around them have lessened.

"God." You breathe out, slumping back against the tub as your chest heaves.

"Good girl." He says kissing your forehead. He drains the tub and grabs the shower head, rinsing suds from your skin before helping you out of the bath gently.

"You know Stevie, you didn't have to do that. I would've gotten to it." You tell him. Steve pulls you close and lifts you onto your bathroom counter.

"I know you're very capable. But I'm far from finished with you and I'd hate to cover your bed in soapy bath water. I'm sure that'd feel very uncomfortable for you as it dried, too." He says, peppering your throat with kisses and bites as he speaks.

"How very considerate of you." You quip with a breathless chuckle.

"It's a selfish act if I'm honest. Can't have you distracted." He says. At some point, Steve must've freed himself from his pants because as he says this you feel him nudging against your entrance.

"I doubt that's a problem you would have Captain." You tell him, your sentence punctuated by him thrusting into you. You moan at the feeling of just how full you feel with him inside you and drop your head to his shoulder.

"Are you alright y/n?" He asks softly, his hand on your hip, stroking gently.

"Fine just- fuck it feels good the way you fill me." You groan.

"Yeah?" He pants.

"Yeah- god Stevie please move."

Steve tightens his hold on your hips and starts a rhythm. His thrusts are strong and steady, and deep, so deep. Your nails dig into his shoulders, clawing against his skin as he fucks into you forcefully.

"Dammit. You're so- soft, and warm, God you feel so good around me." Steve mutters against your neck. Steve is unrelenting in his thrusts, the feel of him inside you pulling moans and whines from you that he can't get enough of.

"Keep going Stevie, please, please, keep going." You pant, grinding against him.

"Fuck- y/n. It's like you're trying to kill me." He grunts. Steve pulls you impossibly closer to him, driving his hips relentlessly. You can feel your muscles tightening, your orgasm bubbling dangerously below the surface. "You're close, aren't you? I can feel it." He huffs out.

"Yeah- yeah I'm close, but I want you to cum with me Stevie. Wanna feel it in me Stevie." You punctuate your words with nips and licks at his throat and he reacts with a shudder as one of his hands reaches between you to find your clit. The added stimulation quickly sends you over the edge and the feel of your walls clamping down on his dick pull Steve over it with you, the hot feeling of his release painting your walls only adding to your satisfaction. You stay like that for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, breathlessly basking in the afterglow.

"How are you feeling princess?" He asks eventually.

"Good- albeit a little shocked. Had no idea you rocked like that, Stevie."

"That was only the beginning, but if I don't pace myself I'll break you, and that's no way to start a relationship." Steve leans back enough to stroke your cheek and give you a wink.

"To be fair we've already started in a weird way and I'm a lot more resilient than you're giving me credit for here Rogers." You poke his chest.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes actually." You nod.

"Well, then I guess it's only fair I test that out." He says, lifting you off the bathroom counter. You let out a gasp as the movement jostles you on top of his dick that's still buried inside you. It's only now, when you register that he's still hard, do you consider that you may be in over your head. That super soldier stamina is no joke! But you're not about to back out now, especially not when you're possibly going to have your every fantasy turned into reality. This definitely beats any of the self care you were planning on for your evening.

***

[dietcokegirly12]

HELLO, I just read your fic called "Trapped" with Poe! omg i loved it, it was the best thing I've read so far. So...I'd love to ask you if you could do another NSFW fic with a fem reader It doesn't matter what it's about as long as it's sweet and has NSFW. Sorry if I didn't specify well 😭 I'm just desperate to read another fic with him, I loved your writing tysm! 💗

“First Time?”

featuring edgar allen poe (,,¬﹏¬,,)

.˚₊‧˗ˏˋ ─── ✎ᝰ♡✧˖°🗒 ─── ˎˊ˗‧₊˚. ─── ✎ᝰ

art credit: pinterest

.˚₊‧˗ˏˋ ─── ✎ᝰ♡✧˖°🗒 ─── ˎˊ˗‧₊˚. ─── ✎ᝰ

tags: unprotected sex, cervix kissing, premature ejaculation, mention of masturbation, sub!poe, dom!reader, etc etc

word count: 2k

˚₊‧⁺˖┈┈⋆˙⟡♡┈┈˚₊‧⁺˖┈┈⋆˙⟡♡┈┈˚₊‧⁺˖┈┈⋆˙⟡♡

You and Poe had been dating for several months now, ever since you met at a library where he was working on a novel, and had captivated you with his awkward charm and boyish smile.

Immediately, you had begun to flirt with him, and after coming often to the library, eventually asked him out on a coffee date.

Your relationship had soared after that, always going on lavish dates with your doting boyfriend, and him constantly showering you in gifts and as much time as he could spare aside from writing novels where you would have cute little dates at the park, or ice-skating together, and truly he was the perfect boyfriend.

Aside from one minor problem.

You two had never… well had sex.

And you weren’t sure if it was because Poe was too shy to ask, or because he just didn’t want to, but you certainly didn’t want to push him if he was uncomfortable.

Of course, you two had kissed, even made out a few times, but it would never last long, with Poe blushing immensely and having to excuse himself where you wouldn’t see him for the rest of the night.

Hell, you two had never even slept in the same bed.

On the rare occasions, you would sleep over, since he was always insisting on driving you home, he was always up late working, and when you would awake in the morning, he’d be curled up and asleep on the couch, ever the respectful gentleman.

You really didn’t want to believe it had something to do with you, or that you just didn’t appeal to him in that way, but it was getting increasingly harder to hold back as the days went on, and you got more and more pent up.

What you didn’t know was that every night, Poe would furiously fuck his fist, imagining it was your hand pumping up and down, and indulging in the dirty thoughts he had felt about you ever since your first kiss, horny and in need of any kind of release.

He refused, however to rush you in the relationship, conceding that you needed to take it slow, and he didn't need nor want you to feel pressured by him into doing anything you weren't comfortable with. No, you were his angel, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

You would think he was starting to lose interest with the way he was almost never home, usually making himself busy with his writing.

Finally, you had enough, and in a last-ditch effort to get him to just touch you, you set up a movie night in his living room, draping the couch with lots of extra blankets and pillows to cuddle in.

"Poeee.. c'mere you've been working so hard, come watch a movie with me." you whine, tugging the raven-haired man closer when he finally came for a break.

He chuckled softly, caressing your cheek. "Okay.. sure, one movie."

You scoot over, so he can sit next to you, sighing internally as he made sure to stay a reasonable distance away, your thighs not even brushing.

As the movie progresses however, you shift closer, eager to put your plan into motion so that he won't be able to ignore you.

Gently, your hand slides up his thigh as you rest your head onto his shoulder, eyes never leaving the screen.

He stiffens slightly under your touch, but stays still, breathing turning slightly heavier.

A couple minutes tick by, and you move your hand slightly higher as you pretend to adjust yourself, until you're practically in his lap, hand dangerously close to where you knew the bulge in his pants was.

And just as your fingertips just barely ghost over him, he jolts like he's been shocked, quickly standing up as he hurries off to his room again, blushing furiously.

"M'sorry! Just remembered.. ah.. I forgot something or.. I need to... my book!"

And then he's gone.

You slump back against the couch, defeated but not ready to give up just yet.

This was going to be harder than you thought.

.˚‧˗ˏˋ ── 𓃠✎ ⋆⑅˚₊ ── ˎˊ˗‧˚.── 𓃠✎ ⋆⑅˚₊ ── ˎˊ˗‧˚

You genuinely thought that maybe it was something you were doing, or that he just wasn't attracted to you, which didn't make sense, because he told you almost every day how beautiful you were, like a creation straight out of one of his novels.

So, deciding to take matters into your own hands, you went to ask his best friend, his only friend, Ranpo Edogawa.

"Has Poe what?"

You blush, bending closer to the shorter man to whisper something into his shaggy brown hair.

"Has Poe ever had a girlfriend? Or had.. ah.. sex with anyone you would know of?"

Drawing back, Ranpo looks you up and down, smirking, emerald green eyes glinting mischievously. "What, you two haven't...?"

You swallow, shaking your head quickly. "I'm starting to think he doesn't want to..."

Ranpo grabs you quickly then, taking you by surprise as he widens his eyes in pretend shock, leading you to believe he knows more than he's letting on. "Oh, he wants you all right. He's always going on and on about the ways..."

"Ranpo?"

You turn your head, spotting your tall, awkwardly standing boyfriend, rubbing his arm as his gaze flicks over the two of you.

"What are you doing?"

As he steps closer, you quickly untangle yourself from Ranpo whose eyes dart between you both.

"Well, this was fun, but I have to get going back to the Agency. See you, Poe!" And with that, he dashes off, leaving just you and Poe alone.

Poe comes closer, eyes uncertainly scanning yours. "W-what were you doing with him?"

You quickly rush to explain, not wanting your poor boyfriend to think anything less than pure was going on. "Don't worry, baby! I was just asking Ranpo something a-about.. uh.."

He tilts his head. "He was saying something about someone wanting you?"

Sighing internally, knowing you weren't going to get away from this without an explanation, you quickly say in a rush,"Iwasaskinghimifyou everhadsex!"

He freezes at that, body going completely stock-still as his face flushes as it usually does when he gets flustered or embarrassed.

You quickly rush to apologize. "I'm so sorry. And I should've asked you but I.."

"No, it's fine." He cuts you off, voice strained and eyes unreadable as he gazes down at you.

Worried since you had never seen him make that expression, you reach for his hand, squeezing slightly. "Sorry. Let's just go home."

He nods numbly, and trails behind you as you lead both of you back to his apartment.

┈⋆ ˚｡⋆📜⋆. ˚｡⋆࿔♡✎ᝰ┈⋆ ˚｡⋆📜⋆. ˚｡⋆࿔♡✎ᝰ┈⋆ ˚｡⋆

The whole walk back, you're thinking about ways to apologize for invading his space like that, feeling horrible. He's silent, simply holding your hand and seemingly lost in thought as his mind is elsewhere.

You imagine the worst. He hates you, is already thinking of ways to distance himself, thinks you're disgusting and a pervert, and... oh you're making yourself sick with the thought, wants to break up.

You prepare to make an apology as you shakily unlock the door, turning slightly to face him. "Poe, I'm truly so sorry-"

But you don't get to finish before his lips are clumsily smashing against yours, rough and unyielding as for the first time, he kisses you with passion, rather than his usual hesitance.

He licks the bottom of your lip softly and as you whimper softly in response, takes it as an invitation to mold his hot tongue to yours, pushing you back gently through the door, and closing it with a slam with his foot.

Gasping for breath, he draws away from your mouth barely enough to lift your hips onto the counter behind you, clumsily fumbling with the buttons of your shirt as he connects his desperate mouth back against yours,

"Fuck.. waited so.. mmph.. long. I just never thought you wanted to.. I didn't wanna rush.. ah fuck.."

He breaks off in an obscene moan, one you had never heard before, and one you never wanted to stop hearing, as your hands run lightly over his pants, trying to unbutton as fast as you can.

His head tilts back, beautiful hair falling back to reveal his sharp jawline and high cheekbones, eyelashes fluttering softly.

Pushing his pants down past his hips, you finally reveal the pale, twitching cock you had been dreaming of for so long, slender and oh-so long, tip glossy with pre-cum and prominent veins tracing prettily all along him.

He shudders as you finally grip him, instinctively pumping up and down as his hips shift forward, a lewd groan slipping out of him.

"Please.. ngh.. c-can't wait.. wan' feel you."

His nimble hands come to tug lightly at your pants, clearly wanting them off, and you're all too eager to comply, undressing to reveal yourself, completely bare in front of him for the first time, full breasts and laced panties showing just how soaked you were for him.

He groans at the sight, hands shakily reaching for you again as he lifts you up to straddle him, hands immediately finding the plush of your thighs and breasts, gently squeezing everywhere he can reach, all too eager after being denied for so long of you.

And you just can't wait any longer, the throbbing in your sopping cunt becoming so intense, you feel as if you might die if he isn't inside you soon.

"Here Poe, jus' stay still.."

He grunts softly, hips jerking as his tip nudges at your entrance, you slowly sinking down on him, wincing as he stretches you so perfectly.

Before he's even halfway in, though, he's cumming, spurts of hot, white ribbons filling you up so filthily, so much of it that it begins to seep out of you, your mouth wide and head thrown back as you shudder at the feeling.

"Poe..." you gasp out, chest heaving. "Did you just...?"

His eyes are squeezed shut tightly in embarrassment, a small whine leaving his throat as you finally manage to sink all the way down, his length throbbing desperately inside you.

His hands come to fit over your hips, long fingers splaying across you as he practically pleads with you. "Fuck! M'sorry! Lemme make it up to you, doll!"

That being his only warning, he starts to bounce you up and down on his cock, tip brushing your cervix with every thrust as you moan softly, tugging on his hair as small cries of his name rush out of you.

He bounces you quicker, and reaches a hand down to explore over your cunt, fingers slightly uncoordinated, but learning fast as he quickly finds your clit, tracing over it sloppily.

Your eyes shut and a small whine escapes you as your hips instinctively buck forward, tightening around him, the slight angle change enough for him to hit even deeper into your snug walls.

He grunts, thrusts becoming more erratic and sloppy as he prods at the squishy spot deep inside you that makes you squeal, your stomach coiling tighter with every thrust.

"Poe.. m'close.. m'close.. hah.. fuck m'cumming!"

And with that being your only warning, your cunt sucks him deeper as your walls ripple and tighten, syrupy arousal coating your thighs as you finally reach your high, white-hot blurring your vision.

"Fuck!" He curses before spilling more ropes of cum into you, being so full of him at this point you can barely breathe, every movement eliciting more of his cum to drip out from between your thighs obscenely.

You collapse onto his chest, sticky against him as your breath heaves, hair sweaty on your forehead.

After a few moments, he gently kisses your forehead, trying to relax but still restless under you, shifting slightly. "Fuck..."

"What is it?" You breathe, one hand coming to comb through his soft hair fanning across you.

It's just then that you feel something hard prodding into you again, before Poe's shy voice speaks up, his hips shifting to grind against you slightly.

"Can we.. do that again, maybe?"

[kalamity-jayne]

Sorry for asking but I am a cis male teenager (well, I thought I was.) but lately I have realized I think I might be a trans girl? I am very scared to drop my masculinity. How did you find out you were trans if that’s okay to ask?

Of course it's ok! I am always happy to help someone who is questioning their gender. However, this is actually a pretty loaded question, because while there is a lot of talk about "when my egg cracked" in trans circles, figuring out you're trans isn't always attributable to any one singular event. Some folks might crack through and emerge from their egg in one swift motion but that is not true for everyone, it certainly wasn't true for me. Sure I could tell about the moment the first crack in my shell appeared, but a single crack in the egg is a far cry from actually breaking out. For many it's a process that can involve a series of revelations and tends to require lots of self reflection and learning how to love yourself. So, there is no quick and easy answer for this. However, I think my story will have a number of different lessons relevant to your question.

Before getting into all that though, I feel I must point out that cisgender folks rarely ask themselves these kinds of questions and when they do entertain these thoughts it's brief and comes with very little agony. The fact you have gone so far as to reach out to trans woman for advice, the fact the you are clearly worried by the prospect of being trans, is a pretty clear indicator that you probably are trans. Regardless of whether you actually are transgender or not, I want you to know that either way, it's ok. You will be ok, no matter what conclusions you come to.

Now, the story of how I figured out I was trans. Bear in mind, the first “aha moment” was 20 yrs ago and things were very different back then. I was about 17yrs old at the time and the term transgender didn't have the currency then that it does now, there wasn't the robust set of terminology that we have today, there were far fewer resources to turn to, no social media, and the overall public opinion was significantly more hostile towards anything LGBT. Anyway, more below the cut.

I didn't follow the typical trans narrative of the time in the sense that, as a child I didn't really care about my clothes so long as my favorite cartoon characters were on 'em, I liked toys typically marketed towards boys, I looked like a boy and everyone referred to me as a boy. So I thought I was a boy. However, I do have a vague memory from early childhood, somewhere between the ages of 4-6, of sneaking into my mother’s room and stealing a pair of her satin underwear and trying it on (it surely would have been too big on me but I remember liking the texture of the fabric) and hiding it under my bed. This memory has since been confirmed during my adulthood by my brother who shared a room with me at the time and had apparently found the hidden stash.

From an early age I was explicitly shunted towards masculinity. I was regularly told to “stop acting like a girl,” and “quit crying like a girl,” and even at one point to “stop walking like a girl,” by my peers and one of my brothers. By the time I was a teenager I was doing my best to be as masculine as possible going so far as joining the highschool wrestling team, a sport that is as homophobic as it is homoerotic, and I hated every minute of it because being manly didn't feel natural to me (and it definitely didn't stop the bullying). It felt like I was trying to ice skate uphill. I fit in but only imperfectly for I was merely acting.

I was also very confused about my sexuality. I thought maybe I was gay or bisexual (turns out the latter) but that didn’t really explain what I was feeling. Around 17yrs old I got curious about transsexuals, thinking maybe the answers would be found there and hoped on to the early and oh so clunky internet. Now I knew of transsexuals conceptually but I didn't know anything about them. Sadly, pornography was really the only reliable way to actually see what a trans body looked like back then. I was stunned because the women I saw did not look at all the way I expected. I was blown away by how so many of them, genitalia aside, looked indistinguishable from cisgender women. And they were all absurdly beautiful. I felt an immediate attraction but there was something else I felt too, envy. And that realization was the first crack in my eggshell.

After that I couldn't get the thought of crossdressing out of my head. So, I dug through a box of my mother's old clothes and took a few items she no longer wore, an old white tennis skirt and a very very 70s sleeveless orange blouse. I was so comfortable in those clothes and when I looked at myself in the mirror I felt good, really good. So, I continued exploring, shaved off all of of my body hair, went to department stores that were open late at night to buy girl clothes (deathly afraid someone would recognize me), I would stay up late at night to watch HBO because at midnight they would occasionally air stuff about trans people, (I remember two documentary shorts in particular and the movie Soldier’s Girl) and I scoured the internet for more information. The internet search brought me to a website called TG list (at least I think that’s what it was called, this was 20yrs ago after all) which was a directory of resources ranging from The Breast Form Store (which still exists!), a myriad of gender identity quizzes (I took nearly every single one), and Susan’s Place.

Susan’s place was one of the few reliable places to hear from actual transgender adults. Unfortunately, while Susan's Place had a lot of useful information the forums there were full of horror stories, a never-ending supply of all the things those women had suffered. So needless to say, there was little to no positivity around transness to give me hope. I was afraid to call myself trans as a result, afraid of what it meant for my life, my future, and my physical safety (you have to remember that back then Mathew Shepard wasn’t old news, his tragedy was practically current events). So I called myself a crossdresser but for reasons I didn't understand at the time I deeply resented that label. I think deep down, no matter how much I tried to deny it and bury it, a part of knew I wanted to be a girl. So when I came out to my parents as a crossdresser and explicitly told them I wasn't trans, that I didn’t have any desire to transition to female, there was that lil voice at the back of my mind calling me a liar. That voice would follow me until my late 20s.

Coming out was a real struggle for me because not only did I think my life would literally be in jeopardy, I thought everyone would think I was making it up, having not followed the stereotypical models of transsexuality. When I came out to my parents they didn't disown me or anything but they were noticeably uncomfortable around me when I was in girl mode. At a certain point I needed their help (credit card) to buy a gaff for tucking and that was when my parents, out of a misguided desire to protect me, pushed me back into the egg. Because of their rejection I spent the rest of highschool and most of my college years trying to hold the egg together with even more denial and by doubling down on masculinity. While I did have some fun during my college years, on balance I was miserable and depressed. I chafed at my male costume and I knew I was lying to myself the entire time, and I hurt myself a great deal.

During my senior year of college I started privately dabbling with crossdressing again, the desire had been nagging at me incessantly. A short time after graduating I met my wife who accepted that side of me and she introduced me to the BDSM/kink community, and the overall culture of nonjudgmental acceptance there cracked the egg for good, because is provided spaces besides my own room where I felt safe being a girl. From that point on I slowly but surely came out of the egg, first calling myself a crossdresser, then genderfluid for awhile, then GENDA passed in NY making me an explicitly protected class and for the next 2 yrs I presented as a they/them genderqueer woman 100% full time without HRT (I was still reluctant to call myself a woman).

I wrestled a long time with the choice to go on HRT. Ultimately that was always a big stumbling block for me. Therapy had gotten me pretty far but I was still afraid of so much and was unsure I would be happy with the changes because my parents had initially rejected me as their daughter in very paternalistic fashion I struggled to trust my own instincts. I still struggle with that sometimes. Eventually, I befriended a trans woman in my neighborhood who pointed out HRT works very slowly and that it takes a long time for any permanent changes to take root. So, she suggested I give it a try and if it didn't feel right I could stop.

I was also taking gender identity quizzes again. Now most of these claim to be diagnostic and those ones a generally misogynistic garbage (they ask stupid questions like, “are you good at math?” and assign a gendered value to the answer) but I happened upon one that started with the disclaimer that it wasn't diagnostic and instead only offered questions that are good to think with. Two questions in particular were very helpful. The first asked, "If you could take a pill that would allow you to wake up tomorrow as a girl, would you take it?" My answer was a hesitant yes, but that yes was bolstered by the next question, "If you could take a pill that would allow you to wake up as a man, in your current body, but without any dysphoria or desires to be feminine, would you take it?" My answer was an emphatic no because that would have felt like killing an important part of myself off. I then at the age of 33yrs old started HRT and 4yrs in I am incredibly happy. That was one of the best decisions I have ever made.

Now, I know that was a lot of fucking text to read but I wrote all of that because I know the prospect of maybe being a trans girl feels scary to you right now but I want to assure you that as daunting as it may seem there is so much about being a trans woman that is full of beauty and joy. I love my trans womanhood and despite the hardships, I wouldn’t give it up for anything. In fact the opposite is true. Knowing what I know now, I would give up almost everything in order to be a woman. So if you feel like you want to give girlhood a try, do it! You can take small incremental steps and you can always stop if it doesn’t feel right, either way you will gain a degree of self knowledge most cisgender people lack completely and that is absolutely priceless! Plus, unlike me when I was a teen, there’s all kinds of resources and information available to you now and an entire community of people ready to help you, and unlike the women in the forums from my past, we aren’t all gloom and doom.

As for your fear of giving up masculinity, don’t let that fear lure you into the denial trap like it did me. Denial is like quicksand, once you’re in it becomes hard to get out, the more you struggle the deeper in you go and it is so very suffocating. And the thing is, you actually don’t have to give it all up. Back when I was presenting full time as woman without HRT, I felt like I had to be ultra feminine all the time, full face of make-up, dress, heels, the whole nine yards. Now that I’m 4 yrs in with HRT I don’t feel that pressure anymore and have since reclaimed certain aspects of masculinity I actually liked. I sill like presenting high femme from time to time but these days I mostly rock a soft butch aesthetic, flannel/t-shirt, jeans and the only makeup I wear daily is just a lil bit of blush. At certain point you become comfortable and realize that gender is just a sandbox to play in and experiment. Masculine and Feminine are just concepts, they aren’t real! so regardless of being cis or trans, don’t let those mere concepts box you in! Just do what feels natural and right to you!

I hope all of that was helpful to you anon, and that at the very least you walk away from this knowing you don’t have to have all of the answers about yourself right now. Now, I don't no the particulars of your situation, so I’m happy to speak with you further if you have follow up questions, just send another anon.

Best of luck to you anon, I am rooting for you!

Big hugs,

Mother Calamity

[sinvilles]

Gathering my thoughts: Danielle Stopframe analysis

also like. I'm not concerned with whether any character in the series was "redeemed" or not. the show was cut in half, and so was every character arc. hence we end up with a show that got cancelled when all the main characters were at their lowest point of development in the narrative, and all the surrounding characters getting half developed to a point of mild satisfaction.

Danielle seems to get the least amount of interest when it comes to what makes him tick. He's a favorite of mine because of all the characters in Moralton, he's one of the few who is very unashamed of who he is and wears it on his sleeve. And I like that his weird presence is built up from the very start of the series. He's over the assumptions of others, and chooses to be himself, which in a show where the major theme is repression juxtaposes him as a foil to the rest of the town.

I wanted to make a mental inventory of this character, starting with some of his personality traits:

The Coach

Danielle is a body builder, and athletic coach to both adults and children. He's coached tennis, track, plays golf, figure skates- he understands discipline, long-term goal setting and is patient enough to work with others to achieve what they're trying to get. Being good with kids has nothing to do with it- its all about being consistent and doing it every day. He seems to approach everything like this- more of that obsession quality. Though he's not beyond trying to perform witchcraft to speed thing up a bit when he gets impatient.

He doubles as your typical gym bunny gay man. Self eroticized, willing to do anything to achieve that romanticized ideal. This brings us to the next bit.

Narcissistic qualities (classic + clinical)

Stopframe is obsessed with appearances. Good appearances means discipline to him, which might be what attracted him to Clay in the first place. But its all very surface level of course. When he sees people without discipline- like the hedonistic satanists, many of whom were overweight- their indulgence, both sexual and gluttonous, turned him off so hard he called it a night and went home. Which is funny coming from the guy with a piss kink.

"Sorry Clay, its just not worth it."

It echoes back later, when he throws out Clay's picture the moment he calls him up for a nightcap at midday. It seems he was either unaware of the extent of Clay's alcoholism or that it had never been that bad up until that point. I think the latter is more likely, since Clay's drinking isn't as pathological throughout the series until we get to Nature. Also suggests to me that Clay, while already having drinking problems prior, started drinking more after he met Danielle. We do see Stopframe say he's "better when he drinks" at least once, and Clay can only really go out and see him at Forghetty's. But this is a tangent for a Clay alcoholism analysis.

He cares very little for his family- Shapey is little more than a long distance trophy to him. I guess. I think. Shapey hugged him that time so I wonder if he ever gives him presents or comes to his birthdays (he was at Orel's). He only spends time with Joe when he's foisted upon him, otherwise ignoring him. He assumes he isn't any good with children, I think because he dislikes Joe's attitude.

A big reason I think his development is unfinished- and this is under the lens of character arcs as want vs need, where getting something they needed makes the character whole- is that we don't see him own up to the fact that he's as flawed as anybody else. He admits he has a problem, but he didn't find the root of it- namely that real love involves accepting the flaws of others and choosing to be there for them anyway. He didn't even own up to disrupting the Puppington home, which he had done intentionally and calculatingly for years. All interesting paths for his character.

Person Addiction

Danielle, much like Clay, has an addiction. It's a lesser known thing called Limerence, or "Person Addiction". Not everyone is aware it's even a thing- some people go through it once in their life, some people cycle through it over and over. There are people who mistake it for love. Scott Adsit once mentioned in a promo that Stopframe is "obsessed with Clay because he hasn't slept with him"- it's one way to describe it, specifically the way a lot of men tend to experience it. Having been through it once I can say with full clarity that it makes you feel temporarily insane and can mirror both anxious attachment and OCD. Realistically, it only feels much creepier than it actually is, because very few who go through it in real life ever want to indulge it the way Stopframe does- pictures everywhere, seducing the guy's wife, fathering a child with her just to insert his DNA into their family, so that Clay raises HIS son alongside his own... absolutely cuckoo bird. Even the part where he says Bloberta is only sexy by her association to Clay- that is the logic that person addiction runs on. Because Clay is literally a hit to him, he gets an oxytocin high from being near him or thinking about him. When he's away from Clay he goes through a withdrawal, sitting alone in the shower and holding himself. Clay is his worst habit.

So, walk with me… his plan to sleep with Clay involves sleeping with his wife first. Because if she commits infidelity, what's to stop Clay from doing it? and then he just has to wait years for the ball to drop and for Clay to eventually walk out. He has no problem fixating on this for almost a decade, but actively puts off ever interacting with Clay until the first episode of the series- even then its just to watch him piss on the wall, and then walk away. He avoids knowing Clay, because I think for a long time he's afraid of ruining the idea he has of him in his head- the idealized Clay that doesn't exist, the built up image. This is not to say that Limerence doesn't happen if you know the person well (its worse somehow), but he's able to easily quit him the moment that Orel tells him what Clay is really like.

Loneliness

It's not easy being queer in a place like Moralton. For one, the gay dating pool must be tiny since so many would be in the closet, or move out altogether. The culture is so 50s adjacent he might have to limit himself to cruising public bathrooms or exchanging letters long distance- its no wonder he fixated on Clay. Something about it might feel "safe" to him, compared to actively getting to know somebody. I don't think he has a problem getting laid so much as a problem connecting to others, which was why it was so sweet to see him make an effort to have a fun day with Orel in the finale.

Family

I might be in the minority on this but I don't think Stopframe is related to Bendy. If the Secondopinionsons wanted to keep Joe's mother a secret they needed to fully cut ties with anyone in her family- and she was a child at the time, so some hush money was definitely involved, maybe enough to send her to nursing school. For Stopframe to be babysitting Joe, he'd have to be in the immediate family of his father- the fact that he has a different name is of interest to me, and the fact that he's so much younger than Dr. Secondopinionson. He could very well have been a bastard child who either changed his name later or was raised primarily by and named after an unwed mother- perpetuating the cycle with Shapey so to speak.

The Romantic Agnostic

He's a big fan of Gothic Erotica, and vampires. Big on fantasizing. Open to trying anything. He is wishy washy on the topic of religion, switching from worshipping God to Satan on a whim. Makes sense, if God loves all his children, but hates homosexuality, and Satan hates all humanity, and loves homosexuality- you've got a 50% chance of pleasing either. I think he probably loves Halloween.

andddd thats all I got

[daytaker]

Can I request a fic where MC is sort of a pathological liar? and they lie about stuff that ultimately doesn't matter, but they can't help it? Also, if it could be Mammon x mc centric that would be amazing, but it doesn't have to be. I love your writing!! bye bye

POV: You are cldhart08. You forgot you sent this to me. Two full months later, you get a notification that daytaker replied to your ask.

Pants on Fire

Ships: (Lowkey) Mammon/Reader, Beel & Reader Word Count: ~1.1k CW: lying (general), lying about medical conditions, bullying Mammon

So you're a bit of a liar.

"I was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. I wasn't breathing or anything, and my dad actually fainted.

...Or a lot of a liar.

"Did you know my second cousin actually dated Selena Gomez for awhile?"

One might even go so far as to call your lying 'pathological'.

"I actually have a severe tree nut allergy, so I'll pass on that. Thanks though."

There was never any logic to it. The lies just came out. You never felt guilty about it, because no one got hurt. So there wasn't really anything to worry about, right?

Wrong.

You sit on the floor outside of Mammon's room, hugging your knees, when a big, hulking form slumps down the wall onto the floor beside you.

"Oh... Hey, Beel," you say. You're not even trying to pretend as if nothing's wrong.

"Hello." He looks at Mammon's door, then at you. "Did you knock?"

You sigh, then demonstrate to Beel what happens when you knock on Mammon's door. A muffled voice comes from inside.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," you reply.

"I already told you! If you're a scummy, lyin' human, you can go eat nuts for all I care! I'm never talkin' to you again so you might as well stop wastin' both our times!"

"He's talking to you now," Beel points out, and it's hard to argue with his logic.

"Who the hell was that? Beel? Fine, then I'll only talk to you to tell you to fluff off, how's that?"

You rub your eyes tiredly and Beel leans in a little, speaking lower so Mammon can't hear him. "If you just leave, he'll come looking for you in about ten or twenty minutes."

"If I leave, he's going to think I'm not sorry." Hugging your knees, you shake your head. "I am sorry."

"Is this about the thing at the student council meeting and the nuts?"

You shudder at the memory.

----

You hadn't even thought about it at the time.

You never particularly liked nuts. Almonds, cashews, walnuts, chestnuts... not even peanuts outside their butter form. So when Mammon asked you why you declined to try a rather nut-heavy dish prepared by Barbatos himself, you simply told him you were allergic. "If I even get a whiff of them, my body goes into anaphylactic shock."

"What the hell's that?"

"Basically, my immune system goes haywire, and if I don't get the right kind of shot in the first few minutes, I'm a goner."

At the time, Mammon had seemed impressed by how close you skated to death, risking your life by casually allowing tree nuts to continue existing around you. And you? You'd enjoyed the brief attention.

At the time.

-----

That was weeks ago, so it was far from your mind as you accepted some human world trail mix from Beel while you sat, bored out of your wits, through another student council meeting. You picked out most of the nuts, of course, but in the end, you swallowed the imperfectly sorted handful.

And Mammon lost it.

"THERE WERE NUTS IN THAT!"

Diavolo, who had been in the middle of speaking, stuttered to a halt as everyone looked over to Mammon, who was simultaneously cradling you and screaming obscenities at an utterly bewildered Beelzebub. In the moment, you'd sort of frozen up and said nothing. Mammon...

Mammon was crying.

He was crying and yelling ridiculous instructions to everyone in the room and getting extremely angry when the others didn't seem to see what the issue was.

"They're gonna go into analgesic shock and die if we don't do somethin' fast! Do none of you bird brains get that?!"

He begged you to tell him how to get that shot you needed, that... what was it, an Apple Pen?

...It was several minutes before you were able to get the truth out.

Force the truth out, more like. Telling that truth made you almost wish you really had gone into anaphylactic shock. That seemed like an easier way to go than looking Mammon in the eye, in front of all his brothers and Diavolo, and explain that you didn't actually have that allergy. That you'd lied.

And of course, of course, the onus fell on Mammon for believing it.

Satan and Asmo sighed at how someone so stupid could function. Levi posted on Devilgram about how you'd epically trolled Mammon. Lucifer scolded Mammon for his overreaction, and Belphie just glowered at Mammon for waking him up with all his shrieking.

And you, you sort of...said nothing.

-----

"Ah," Beel says, nodding. "You feel bad that you made him look stupid."

"No," you groaned, frustrated at your inability to articulate exactly what it was that felt so off. "It's... He really thought I was going to die. I scared him. And then everyone treated him like a gullible idiot. So...I guess I made him look stupid, but..."

Beel stares at you. His expression is blank, but in a soft sort of way. It's oddly comforting.

"He got made into a laughing stock because I told him a lie, and he reacted to it....the way someone would react if they thought someone they really cared about was in danger. I feel guilty for lying and worrying him, and I feel worse that I just let everyone tear into him like always, when all he did was try to take care of me."

The door you're leaning against swings open behind you and you fall flat on your back in Mammon's doorway. The demon stares down at you with a mixture of righteous contempt and a flustered embarrassment that was so painfully typical of Mammon.

"Yeah! And you should feel guilty! You're a real asshole, ya know that?"

You blink up at him and offer a weak smile. "...Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

Mammon folds his arms. "You really think you can just come snivelin' up to me and beg for forgiveness, and I'll just hand it to ya?"

Beel looks between you and Mammon, watching the conversation unfold with the same mild interest he'd show while staring at a somewhat unimpressive exhibit at the zoo.

"...Well, today just so happens to be your lucky day," Mammon continues. "The Great Mammon, the big guy himself, has decided to forgive your tiny mortal soul for bein' a total jackass and liar. You're welcome. Don't expect it to happen again."

Still lying on your back, you grin at Mammon. "Thanks, Great Mammon."

The demon clears his throat and looks away. "Anyway. Our turn to make dinner tonight, so..." With that, he walked right past you and darted down the stairs.

Typical Mammon.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Jersey

Masterlist

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Mike x reader

Summary: Mike thought it would be a good idea to teach you how to skate. It wasn't — so he has to come up with a different plan.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, p-in-v sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected (at least condomless) sex, creampie, and a very needy, desperate, slightly pushy and arrogant Mikey.

Bingo: "Is that my shirt?" (you can find the bingo masterlist here)

A/N: As always, we blame @geralts-yenn for putting the idea of Mike as a hockey player in my brain. Not the field kind, the cold and violent kind. Of course.

It's also the third entry for my @henrycavillbingo card! I know I didn't exactly use the phrase of the prompt — although I did imply it — but a jersey is sort of a shirt, I guess, so it counts :")

Enjoy!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @littlefreya @mayloma @summersong69 @livisss @winter2112rose @changenameno @wa-ni (still not allowed to tag you, sorry :( )

“Don’t let go of me!” Who knew ice was slippery? You. You knew. Everyone knew. Yet here you were...

“I won’t let go,” Mike answered with a smile. He was the one who had assured you it would be fine. ‘Skating is fun, Sweetcheeks’ your freezing ass...

“Mike! You just almost dropped me!”

“I didn’t,” he snorted. “You almost fell, that’s not the same thing. Ow! Would you let go of my arm, before it falls off?”

You reluctantly relaxed your grip, panicking when he moved your hands from his upper arms to just below his elbow.

“What, no!” You scrambled to get closer to him.

“Babe, you won’t be able to move like that. Come on. Nothing’s gonna happen!”

“Are you sure you’re okay going backwards?” you asked. Of course, you were hoping he’d say ‘no’ and you could go back inside.

“Sweetcheeks, I’ve been doing this at least twice a week since I was six. If there was a way to skate sideways, I’d be okay doing that.” So, there was really no way around this, then? He really wasn’t going to let you off the hook?

“You said you wouldn’t let me fall!” you said, shoving Mike’s shoulder and pouting up at him. “That hurt!”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Mike mumbled. “Are you okay?”

You rubbed your elbow and nodded. “I’ll live. But I’m fucking cold.”

“Yeah, when you do it right, this is exercise...” Mike said with a grin. “Sweetcheeks, that was just a joke! Come here, please?” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at this,” you muttered. “I know you love it, I just...”

“Babe, babe, babe, stop.” He put a hand over your mouth. “It’s okay! I thought this would be fun but... I’m clearly not a very good teacher.”

“That’s not true! I’ve seen you coach the little ones! You’re great with them!” You trailed your fingers over his cheek. He didn’t wince at the cool wetness of your glove. “That said, I really don’t think this is my scene.”

“Alright, let’s get you off the ice and in front of the fireplace,” he said, laughing. “Don’t move.”

You stayed still while he got up, and then he pulled you off the freezing surface you were still sitting on.

“My leggings are soaked,” you noted, shivering as Mike pulled you along to the edge of the lake.

“I really didn’t expect you to fall this much, babe,” he chuckled.

“We can’t all be hockey superstars, jerk,” you retorted.

“No, but most people can at least stand upright on skates!”

“I’ll stand upright in the shower, thanks,” you grumbled, “and you are not invited.” Of course, that would have had more impact if you hadn’t encountered the edge of the lake at that precise moment, causing you to lose balance and tumble face-first into the snow.

“Sorry Sweetcheeks,” Mike said, in between fits of hysterical laughter, “but that was... You looked...” He pressed his hands to his side — a well-deserved side stitch if you ever saw one! He didn’t lose his balance for a second. Jackass.

You furiously pulled the laces on the skates but they wouldn’t come off. Why wouldn’t they come off? A cry of frustration escaped you before you could help it, and... Was that a tear? Great.

“Sweetcheeks, are you cr—”

“Only out of frustration,” you snapped before he could ask. “Nothing to do with you.”

Mike helped you up and helped you walk to the rock he’d cleaned off for you when you had arrived. It wasn’t as wet as the pile of snow he’d plucked you out of, but it certainly wasn’t any warmer.

You stayed still while he took your skates off, successfully avoiding any accidents, and watched impatiently while he traded his own skates for his shoes again.

“Can you at least try to hurry?” you said, no longer able to keep your teeth from chattering.

The hot water of the shower was an absolute godsend. You’d stuck to your threat to not invite Mike. He’d have to think of another way to keep you warm — and he would. You already knew what you’d be walking into; you could already feel his hands on your hips, his face buried in your neck, exploring every inch of your skin, eager hands scrambling to grab as much boob as he could manage — arguably not your favorite part but he was cute, so you’d forgive him — and then finally...

You forced yourself out of the shower before you got to the kind of stuff you’d rather have Mike do, and dried off. As you looked around the room, you noticed a jersey hanging from the back of his desk chair. After a quick inspection — it smelled mostly clean — you put it on before making your way downstairs.

A nice fire was waiting for you there, complete with a content-looking, shirtless Mike — admittedly your favorite flavor of Mikey — lounging in front of the fireplace. “Hey, come here, it’s nice and wa—” He stopped talking mid-sentence when he finally looked up at you. “Is that my... Baaaaaaabe... You took my jersey!”

“I did,” you said. “Want it back?”

You watched him shake his head, while he dug deep to find the ability to speak. He still hadn’t managed by the time he rolled over, scrambled to his knees and crawled over to you, grasping the hem of the jersey and pressing his lips to the inside of your knee. And then, finally: “Hot. So fucking hot.” It cost him to speak, even those four little words.

His lips moved up the inside of your leg at a glacial pace — atypical for Mike, to say the least. When he made it about halfway, he seemed suddenly plagued by an epiphany: “You’re not wearing anything else, are you?”

Blue puppy eyes widened even further when you slowly shook your head, and Mike sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down with force. A strangled moan stumbled out of his mouth, and you knew what you’d find if you could see the front of his sweatpants right now.

Then, he was up, slinging you over his shoulder in less than one second, and at least somewhat carefully putting you down again in the nest of blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace. His lips found your neck — and so did his tongue and his teeth, his sloppy kiss causing you to arch your back off the ground, arms desperate to grab as much of him as possible. He had other plans, though.

He sat up on his knees between your legs and looked down on you as he planned his next move. Except Mike couldn’t plan. Like, at all... So you let your knees fall to the side and pulled the jersey up so it wasn’t covering you. It was enough to throw him off his game.

He shrugged in a ‘yeah, I could eat’ kind of way and dove face-first between your legs, wasting no time whatsoever. No teasing, no slow start, nothing. Just his eager mouth on your pussy, tongue flat against your clit — just the way you liked it — settling into an easy rhythm that would definitely get you where you needed to be.

A focused, goal-oriented Mikey was a rare sight to behold. In fact, you’d go as far as to say there were two possible scenarios in which he came out to play; on the ice, and between your legs doing exactly what he was doing now. The discussion of the subject had gone about as Mikey-esque as possible. According to him, if he lost focus in these situations, someone would get hurt — you personally felt there was some kind of a difference between a cramped jaw and a shattered kneecap or other serious injuries, but he didn’t see it that way. Not that you were going to complain about it, because focused, goal-oriented Mike got the job done. Quickly.

He moaned — a sexy, sweet little sound — when you grabbed his head, weaving your fingers into his dark curls before clenching them into a tight fist. It wasn’t that he needed the guidance as much as you needed something to hold on to...

“Fuck, Mikey...” He had you on the edge already, but you knew better than to tell him you were close. Any time you’d tried that, it had fried something in his brain and all consistency in his technique had disappeared like snow in July. Not good. So, you’d learned to keep your mouth shut so he could keep that gentle, diligent rhythm intact, until... “Oh god, yes!”

Every muscle in your body tensed and you screwed your eyes shut as he pushed you over the edge. You barely noticed the satisfied little hum that came from him — standard procedure, and nothing compared to the other signs of his elevated sense of self-importance. In other words; the least unbearable part of the cocky attitude that bubbled up whenever you came on his tongue.

You groaned when he threw himself on top of you, probably sort of accidentally crushing you with his full weight, but you forgave him when he kissed you silly, giving you plenty of opportunity to taste yourself on his tongue before he moved on to delivering sloppy kisses to your neck.

“Get on your knees,” he demanded, grabbing your wrists as you reached for the hem of the jersey. “That stays on. Get on your knees and turn around.”

“Do you have—”

“No, I don’t. I need to feel you,” he whined — you almost felt bad for him.

“Mikey...” you warned. If you went there with him, there was no way you were ever turning back.

“Baaaaabe,” he whined again. God, those eyes were killing you. “You know you’re it for me, right? Fuck, you’re wearing my name, my number... You had to know that would drive me at least a little nuts, right? Please, please, please, pretty, pretty please, let me... Just... Please?” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, grinding his hips against you.

You’d seen him needy and desperate — of course you had! If you kissed this man’s neck twice at a party and whispered a single even remotely sexual thing in his ear, he’d already be begging to let him take you home. This, however, was next level...

His mouth stopped begging, but his eyes definitely didn’t, and the brutally possessive grasp on your hips didn’t relax either. He wasn’t going to quit until he got what he wanted, that much was obvious. That left only one question: were you going to give it to him?

“Sweetcheeks, I’m not kidding,” he muttered after a few moments. “Come on... Face down, ass up—” You clamped a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence, and as you did so, you realized something.

“You don’t seriously want me from behind because you can look at... Oh my god, that’s why you don’t want me to take this damn jersey off, isn’t it?” ‘Vaguely indignant’ would be an accurate description of your tone. Maybe more than ‘vaguely’.

“Ehhhh...” The sound of a man who had been well and truly fucking busted. “Okay so, out of all the times I’ve looked at you and thought ‘woohoo, she’s mine!’, right now you’re so, so, so the mine-est... My name. My number. My sweet, perfect, wet little pussy. Okay? Mine.” He dragged you down to the floor, where he latched his mouth onto your neck again, this time with so much tongue that you begged him to stop. “Only if you let me fuck my pretty girl from behind!”

“That’s blackmail!” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yup! Now surrender!” He grabbed your boob with one hand and tickled your side with the other before reaching between your legs. “Come on, you’re soaking wet and I know you need me as much as I need you, so... Let me bone you already!”

“I have one demand!” you said, wiping the tears off your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath. No one could make you laugh like your professional idiot.

“Hey, we’re negotiating! That’s progress!” he teased, pinching your nipple through the fabric of the jersey.

“I get to be on top, first,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at Mike, who didn’t see, because he had his face buried in your neck.

“Deal!” He snapped his head up, almost head-butting you in the nose. “Sorry! But yeah, deal, deal, deal! Fucking deal!” He scrambled to his knees and got comfortable in front of the couch, leaning his back against it and reaching his arms out towards you. “Here! Get over here, now!”

You crawled towards him, slowly, giving him your best fuck-me eyes as you let your hands slide up his legs — agonizingly slowly, of course — and hooked his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. “You want me, baby?”

The sweetest whimpers escaped him when you wrapped your fingers around his cock, but they turned into pitiful whines when you leaned forward. “No, I don’t want you to suck my cock!” Words you thought you’d never hear from this guy... “I need you to turn around and fucking sit. On. It.”

“Beg for it one more time, baby, please?” you asked sweetly. “You’re so cute when you beg for my pussy.”

“My pussy,” he teased. “Please, please, please, please, please come here and ride me.”

You paused for a moment, locking eyes with him, taunting him as you decided whether or not that was good enough, and quickly coming to the conclusion that he hadn’t been wrong when he said you needed him, too. So, you turned around, revelling in the sounds of eager anticipation from Mike as you moved to where he wanted you. Seconds later, you felt his tip at your entrance, and you knew the time for teasing was over.

“Fuck,” he said, twice, three times... You lost count, what with being a little too busy relishing the feeling of his skin on yours for the first time since you’d met him.

“Good?” Stupid question...

“You’re killing me, Sweetcheeks,” he moaned, clenching his fists tightly around the bunched up fabric of the jersey at your hips.

You moved slowly, knowing he would go absolutely crazy over it, and it wasn’t long before he was begging you for more. As far as you were concerned, he could forget about that, but he had other plans. He pushed you forward and quickly wormed his way out from under you, getting on his knees behind you, hurrying to get back inside.

“Can’t do this, Sweetcheeks,” he huffed, adorably out of breath. “Show up like this and then tease me. It’s not fair. Bad girl!” He playfully smacked your ass.

“Don’t act like you hate it,” you said as you reached for a pillow — playtime was over, and you were going to need one to scream in.

Lo and behold, he didn’t even pretend to hold back on the first thrust, much less any of the ones that followed, and you were left crying and moaning into that pillow as he railed you into the next century. You could tell from his breathing and his soft swearing that he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Babe, can I— oh fuck...” This idiot. The answer would have been ‘yes’, but still... “Please tell me I’m not gonna be a dad...”

“I figured it would be better to see if you’d grow up first,” you laughed as he pulled out and lay down next to you with a hopelessly adorable concerned look on his face. Slowly, a smile broke through as you assured him it was okay.

You snuggled into his side, and he pulled a blanket over the both of you. “Hey, Sweetcheeks,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you sighed.

He pulled on the jersey to get you as close to him as possible. “And you’re so totally wearing this to my next game.”

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Sunlight ||

Matt Murdock x GN!reader

Warnings: breakup angst, Matt sad, confused, and crying, 😭

I am working on WIPs but just bashed this out this afternoon, heh, sorry. 😔 Hope you enjoy and please reblog/comment on stuff you like, it makes me so happy, thank you so much! 💜

The morning is still cool, Matt's face is mostly covered with a veil of the morning shadow, the first visible curve of the sun only just starting to peek above the horizon as you sit on the roof together. You had both been up almost all night when you had said you wanted to talk to him, tell him you were going somewhere that he couldn't follow, out of the kitchen, out of New York. Out of the country entirely. And that you didn't want him to follow you, it wouldn't be fair on him.

The Devil ignored the pained sounds of his city only to listen to you break his heart. You had talked all night and he was in need of some air and space to process what you were saying.

You're asking him a question.

“Do you remember them, the sunrise and sunset?” you say softly, staring out over the twinkling grid of the city below.

It takes him a moment to answer, the silence between seeming to stretch on endlessly until he can swallow down the emotion and speak.

“Yeah, I think so. Sometimes it's hard to know if I'm really remembering how it was, or if my brain is just filling in the blanks.”

You take his hand in yours. How did you both end up here?

“Can I describe it to you?” you ask.

Matt tries his best to smile, to lie. Anything to make this easier.

“Please.” He says instead of anything else, instead of begging you to change your mind. He doesn't want to remember this sunrise, this beginning of the first day of many that he'll spend without you near. However much it hurts to hear your voice illustrate how the dark reds and purples are gradually giving way to burnt oranges, pale yellows, and lighter blues, how there are wispy trails of cloud scattered across the canvas of the wakening sky, he makes himself listen. Everything is ephemeral.

“I can’t decide if I like the sunrise or the sunset the most.” you quietly muse.

Matt only knows he prefers those days that were bookended by your presence. He vividly remembers the heat of the summer evenings and the sound of your laughter as he chased you around the apartment for a kiss after work, cold beers and cold fingers skating over warm skin and making you scream with the sudden shock of the contrast and then later, making you cry out his name for a different reason on the couch.

Or the simple taken-for-granted comfort of waking up on a fall morning with you right there beside him, pulling you closer and indulging himself by breathing in your scent and listening to the steady beat of your heart. He thinks about the future, the silence and emptiness that would fill the void left by you in his home. He doesn't know if he can stand it.

When you turn to look at him there's a glimmer from a tear hanging ready to fall from his lashes. All the beautiful colours of the sky reversed within its reflection before it rolled down his face. He had never expected to hear such clichéd words come from your lips - “it's not your fault” and “we just want different things” ring in his ears accompanied by the increasing noise of the waking city below. He never saw any of this coming. He wasn't looking for it, he thought you'd always be together. His guiding light. There was no warning, no noticeable change in your behaviour or the way in which you loved him.

And you had said that you still loved him. How could that make any sense when you were letting him go?

“You'll be alright, Matt. I know you.”

He sniffs, barely nodding at your attempt to comfort him. You did know him, and that's why he can't even try to persuade you not to leave. He couldn't stand to make you feel trapped and unhappy, but he was losing a limb, a piece of his soul. You were tearing yourself away and he could feel it physically hurt like a fresh, deep awful wound in his chest.

The strengthening heat of the sun's cheerful rays dilutes the warmth left on his skin from the touch of your hand. Already he mourns the memory of the softness of your cheek pressing against his, all traces of you fading fast as he hears the click of the front door closing. The sound of your heartbeat, one of the precious constants becoming more distant with every step as you walk away and take the sunlight out of his life.

[lexxierave]

When Fate Intervenes- tasm! Peter Parker x Reader Part 9

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

The night air was chillier than normal and you instantly regretted not grabbing a heavier jacket when you left your apartment but you were so excited from turning in your paper that you didn't initially feel the cold winds sweeping past you.

You thought maybe it would be best to grab a coffee at a little cafe and maybe just call it quits early, you could always go out tomorrow night when you have the forethought to look up the weather or at the very least dress warmer for the night. 

As the door jingles above your head the person in the middle of the line turns and you realize it's Peter.

"Parker?" You questioned him in disbelief.

What were the odds he would be at the coffee shop you always go to in between studying. It wasn't too far from your apartment but far enough that you got a decent study break in on the walk there and back.

"Hey y/n" Peter waved slightly before readjusting his glasses and the warmth in you started to come back.

Yep that's Peter, his skateboard was tucked in his backpack and slug over his one shoulder easily.

Today's Peter seemed to be wearing a comfy looking hoodie layered over what looked like a long sleeve shirt, to keep himself warm while he skated around who knows where. 

Peter seemed almost different from earlier though. Almost like he was the Peter from when you first encountered him, awkward and shy. Not the smart and nerdy guy you started to know. He acted like you were strangers again, not budding friends.

Sure he greeted you but that was all he did as he turned back around in the line as it started to move again.

At that thought the warmth that was inside you died down quickly.

You must have crossed a line earlier like you worried about. You needed to apologize for that.

That distance between him and you in the line wasn't that great so you weighed your options and decided to just wait until you both were waiting for your drinks to talk to him. It would give you the chance to think of how you were going to apologize to him.

It wasn’t long until it was your turn to order, you turned to the barista ready to rattle off you order when you realized you knew the person

“Joey?” You questioned not quite sure if you knew his name correctly or not.

“Close it’s Johnny” He corrected you giving you a small smile.

You had seen him around campus and maybe in one of your classes if you remembered correctly and while he seemed like a nice guy there was something about him that just didn’t stick with you. You just couldn’t put your finger on it but it seemed like from what you had seen he tried too hard to be liked.

“Right. Sorry about that. Johny. Umm..how have you been?” You questioned trying to break the awkward tension that seemed to have appeared between the two of you.

“Not too bad. How about yourself?” He asked, pretending to clean the counter.

“I’ve been doing good.” You replied, glancing over to see if Peter’s name had been called but thankfully it hadn’t.

“I..uh…heard you’ve been working closely with that Parker kid.” Johny stated, causing you to snap your attention back to him.

“Oh? What about it?” You asked defensively.

You knew that people talked harshly about Peter before you worked with him. The name Park traveled throughout the school like some kind of a new slang term to put someone down.

Things like “You're such a Parker.” or “Don’t be a Parker”. While you had no idea what it meant at the time you paid it no mind.

However, once you actually met the boy and got to know him the terms took a new meaning to you and you found yourself sticking up for Peter behind his back.

“Nothing. Just curious how you’re handling it. You know what they say about him at school.” He tried to remind you. “It must be difficult to be near that kind of kid for even a short amount of time.”

You thought about how when you first started working with Peter you didn’t really want to spend that much time with him either but not because of what they said at school but because you just didn’t want to deal with someone else. But now? Now that you got to get closer to Peter, there’s something about him that draws you in and makes you want to spend your free time with him. It didn’t matter what you did, you just wanted his presence.

So the thought of how others still thought of him and talked about him without knowing him got your blood boiling and you felt its heat rising to your head.

“Well not everything you hear is fact. Now if you’d please I’d like to order.” You snapped at him.

“Oh…yeah. Sure. Didn’t mean to upset you. What can I get you?” He asked, the shock from your response clearly written on his face.

You ordered and turned to find Peter was gone. The pout on your face was evident as you moved out of the way and waited for your own drink alone. 

You had a lot playing through your mind as you stood there that you didn’t realize what was happening outside the coffee shop.

Part 10

[rikeijo]

Yuri!!! on stage pamphlet, Kubo Mitsurou - Character comments

Katsuki Yuuri

The character of Katsuki Yuuri, previously still vague, solidified in the scene in episode 4 when he touches Victor's hair whorl. That scene is also one, where I managed to express an idea I've had in my head for a very long time - I wanted to show something like a moment not connected to the main story, when their relationship changes, but not in a logical way. The same thing can be said about the scene in the last episode when, even though Victor is crying, Yuuri pushes aside his fringe and says "So you cry too!" - Yuuri has this very primal (原始的) characteristic of putting his own curiosity first before feelings of the other person, that's a desire he can't suppress. I think it was our intention to use this characteristic to make the viewers expect that he is surely going to act in a way they cannot predict. Throughout the series, Yuuri's character was shaped by misleading the audience to think they know Yuuri's personality and then showing them in each episode that they were not right about him. That's why the character turned out to be much more complex that we thought he would be in the first episode and I think the viewers can sense that the creators had a lot of fun writing him. We sometimes say that the characters are acting on their own, but in this case I think we were writing the character while being bossed around by him.

Victor Nikiforov

Just as it was with Yuuri, I couldn't fully grasp Victor's personality in episode 1, and so his character also solidified over time as I was writing the show. Beginning with the scene in episode 4 when he told Yuuri "I'm not going to hold back" during their conversation on the beach, and then when he was "really hurt" after Yuuri touched his hair whorl, little by little the underlying kindness Victor possesses started to show up more, as even though he had no idea what Yuuri was really thinking, he wanted to get to know Yuuri better and Yuuri to get to know him better too. Actually, I also thought the fact that even staff members couldn't fully comprehend Victor's actions made him all the more charming. Because his actions were impossible to comprehend, the audience too has been watching the show without being able to form any strong assumptions about him and the sense of insecurity you've been getting while watching him was probably also a sign that you started to like the character... I've created Victor by trying my best to draw a cool and beautiful human being. I don't think however, that he could ever be mine. Yuuri also feels this way, but in Yuuri's case he was able to form a very strong connection with Victor thanks to skating. I was writing the show while thinking that I'd like the audience to enjoy the feeling that in every episode, together with Yuuri, they too get to meet Victor they've never seen before, as the relationship between Yuuri and Victor is forming - relationship that was only possible because Yuuri had skating as an excuse [免罪符, it means something like "get-out-of-jail-free card" - funny word choice, but Mitsurou really pushes here the idea that Victor was way out of Yuuri's league. ]

Yuri Plisetsky

In case of Yurio, his character as well as character design were very clear from the very beginning. He was very easy to write. He is my favorite type of character and based on my experience I was sure he's going to be popular. He is the type of a side character, who can outshine even the main character in terms of popularity, so I was careful not to make him "angsty" by e.g. giving him a tragic past or making him have a difficult family situation. With Yurio I didn't want his character to be someone who gets popular because people feel sorry for him, so I gave him family and coaches, as well as new friends, and wanted to show his strength by making him achieve even greater success while being in a relatively good place emotionally. I think I've managed to use the basic manga trope of writing about a strength of found family instead of real family without focusing on the tragic aspects of this trope.

Christophe Giacometti

Chris was born as an ultra sexy character, a character who is very aware of his "eros" and at the same time has the strength to not care when other people stare at him. I decided on the visual side of the character first - I gave him those curled and long, stunningly beautiful eyelashes because I wanted the audience to think: "How grateful we are that such a beautiful skater exists in this world at the same time as Victor!". I also wanted to show the gap between his super cute look with curly hair when he was a child and his present look and suggest that a lot of growing up happened there. While I was writing him, or I should say it was more thanks to the choreography and music we created, the charm that was radiating from him was neither masculine nor feminine, but simply Chris' charm. I personally wanted to make him a "skater who looks good naked" and was having great fun writing him.

Phichit Chulanont

With Phichit, I was aiming to create a pure and energetic person. I've actually heard Thai artists active abroad saying that they want to show everyone the new face of Thailand and also that there are certain aspects of Thailand they were only able to see after they went abroad. So, I felt that young Thai people right now are really making a lot of effort to reconstruct themselves, so I wanted to make Phichit a person who has the spirit to create new things. With the fashion he wears, I was aiming for something Harajuku-like.

Ji Guang-Hong

I've come up with this idea of a Chinese competitor, young but with good skills, as a counterbalance to the great number of overwhelmingly strong competitors who appear in the show. I wanted to make him a character who shows all the signs of becoming terribly good in the future if he continues to gain more self-confidence and experience. When it comes to his personality I was imagining him following the latest trends, like all the modern kids do, or maybe traveling to the USA off-season to train at the same rink with Leo, for example. I intentionally didn't make him really stand-out, because I think he is still at a stage before he can bring out his individual personality.

Jean-Jacques Leroy

Before we even started to think about the story, I effortlessly came up with lines like "JJ won't give up! He can't give up!", so JJ is the character who has already been well-defined even before he was created. We placed a very rough order for his song: a song which feels like it was written by somebody who could win a Grammy. The request we've made for the lyrics too wasn't all that specific but the finished lyrics were well... absolutely amazing! I wanted to make JJ into a character who would make the spectators sing that song while he skates his short program. He is too egoistic, so other competitors who can't get along well with him, simply can't get along well with him, period. He isn't the type who can become friends with everyone. However, he doesn't really care. I wouldn't say that he for sure isn't hurt at all by this though, if you look deep inside, but one of the incredible things about him is that he doesn't let it show on the outside.

Georgi Popovich

We aimed to express different kinds of love and here is the type of competitor who puts all the emotions he's experiencing after he broke up with his lover into his performance. I was thinking that maybe in a country like Russia nobody would have a problem with him doing something like that and so I gave him this kind of artistry, different than the artistry Victor has. And again, also compared to Leo, he's a different type of artist. Georgi is very serious about practice and listens to what his coach says too diligently. But I think he loves himself the most, more than anyone else. He is a narcissist, so he loves his lovers very much too, because they love him. I think that's why he reacts with this "I am the one who can protect you!" thing after he gets dumped. The ability to transform all these feelings into a performance is his strong point.

Nishigori Takeshi

Nishigori was created because I wanted to introduce a point of view of somebody who has gave up on skating. He is also a childhood friend of Yuuri and somebody, who has been watching him from a very close distance - so he's a character with a quite complex setting. He is the only married man [in the show] so I wanted him to be masculine and not somebody who fret over things a lot. I also was thinking that the reason why Yuuri didn't want to go back to his home town for such a very long time, is because of Nishigori and Yuuko. When it comes to Nishigori and Yuuko's relationship, I think Yuuko is the one who started it. She didn't confess her feelings directly but I think it was probably very clear that she likes Nishigori. Because men from Kyushu don't go after a girl who they know they don't have a chance with. They never try to reach a "flower that grows high on a mountain top [an idiom representing a unattainable goal] (laugh).

Leo de la Iglesia

Leo, who was looking up to Victor, is the only competitor who choreographs his programs by himself. He wants to leave no doubt that he is self-producing his programs - he wants to skate his own choreography to the songs he likes to truly bring out his own charm. When it comes to figure skating in the USA, there is a lot of strong competitors in different parts of the country and so there are also skaters of different races. I think there is that conviction that to be able to show your own strengths in these conditions, the most important thing is to express the "I'll be saved by the things I love" core part of you. Leo can't for example jump quadruple jumps yet, but instead he wants to find his other strong points and show them - I wanted him to be a strong person in this way.

Minami Kenjiro

A skater who just made his senior debut, Minami-kun, was created because, just like Yuuri looks up to Victor, I wanted other Japanese skater to look up to Yuuri and Yuuri to be aware that there is somebody who looks up to him. Yuuri had a very bad start at Nationals, so Minami has already won with him once, but I thought I wanted another active competitor to tell Yuuri that he wants Yuuri to continue skating. And so I gave him this pure personality, the kind that Yuuri doesn't possess, so he can yell "I will definitely win with you!". Because of that, he became a character like a classic shonen manga protagonist. And because he has the vibe of anime protagonist I also gave him a matching haircut. I created him feeling that "If Yuri!!! was a shonen manga Minami would definitely be the protagonist".

Otabek Altin

He is a stoic, rugged and serious skater. A type of man who doesn't go to gatherings with other skaters. He left his family and was moving from country to country throughout the course of his training, so he had to wait a long time for a breakthrough. While training, separately from skating, he was also making friends among local musicians, so he has a lot of companions, who are important to him not only in Kazakhstan. He is the type of person who you can trust. He doesn't talk much and doesn't use social media much. But somehow you feel that he can for sure make a lot of progress. He also has this idea to do things that other people don't do. That's why I think that [since he started till the moment we meet him in the show] he's been treating skating very seriously. Otabek is more of a warrior or a soldier than an artist. I see him as this kind of person, who respects competitors who aren't on a level playing field with him and he treats them like comrades-in-arms. That's why, after he met with Yurio at a summer camp and saw his strength, he decided to find his own style of fighting, other than ballet, and he never forgot Yurio, who also had a soldier-like dream.

Michele Crispino

I think Michele loves his sister too much and that's why he doesn't really want to change. He has the skills and skates very good. That's why he managed to get to the GPF and is a very strong competitor, but there's also something missing there and he can't really break through. I wanted to show that his love is of a different kind than the rest of the cast's. I think the kind of love he has for Sara is a little bit different than familial love, but well I think that in his mind Sara is the only person he can trust. But Sara herself thinks she needs to change. I wanted to highlight this change by making Michele a tough/traditionally masculine guy. I was thinking that I want him to use the emotions he has because of his sister to have the break through even if these emotions are not necessarily positive. It was fun writing him.

Lee Seung Gil

SeungGil says pretty harsh things and has the most athlete-like mind of all the skaters. The pressure he is under is huge so, as the real athlete he is, to protect himself from being influenced by this pressure, he doesn't do any fan-service. I think that he is simply a stoic competitor, but because during interviews he says things like: "Is it really necessary for me to answer questions like that?", people misunderstand him and tease him for being cold. The story that I was thinking about for him is that he competes with this stoic attitude, but he knows that if he doesn't become more expressive, he can't win, so he chose a song and costume with an element of surprise. I think this gap is where his charm is. I think he, in his everyday life, isn't interested in things other than skating and usually wears clothes his mum bought for him, or jersey.

Emil Nekola

There are a lot of characters who stand out, so I wanted to design one, who doesn't, and instead simply has a sunny disposition and is like a younger brother or the kid in a group. Skaters from Czech Republic are popular so I thought that it will be a good match to his personality if I make him Czech. The image I have for him is that he is friends with Michele and is the kindest person among European skaters. I was thinking to make him "a big guy who you can depend on". He is very good at physical activities, so I think if, in addition to skating, if he decided to do snowboarding or extreme sports he would be pretty good at them too. He himself isn't really fixated on skating and has a lot of other things he likes to do. But right know he is focusing on skating. That's why, unlike Michele who is like: "Skating is the only thing I have in my life", Emil has a very good way of dealing with the pressure - he is a clever guy.

Closing comments

The things to enjoy while binge watching all episodes

At the end of ep 10, it was revealed that Yuuri at the banquet actually asked Victor to be his coach. If you re-watch the show from ep 1, while having this in mind, the relationship between Yuuri and Victor will surely appear very different. In the beginning of ep 1, when Victor ask Yuuri "Do you want a commemorative photo?", to him Yuuri wasn't someone who really stood out from the crowd. But then, he watched the video of Yuuri skating a perfect copy of his "Stammi Vicino" program, while having some prior knowledge of Yuuri from the "be my coach accident" at the banquet. And as the story goes, because of that Victor's got certain ideas and decided to travel to Japan. If we look at the events from Victor's perspective, it must have been very weird for him, because Yuuri himself asked him to come, but after he came Yuuri met him with this "Why are you here…?" reaction. I think you should be able to enjoy the story even more, if you change the perceptive you watch the show from when you re-watch all 12 episodes at once.

To fans…

I think without both the fans who were supporting us and the staff members who participated in production, we wouldn't be here today. I can't thank you all in person, but we are thinking of doing something, so you can enjoy the world of Yuri!!! even more, as a thank-you gift. I'm looking forward to your continuous support of Yuri!!! on ice.

[stephaniebrownslover]

★彡[!NINA THE KILLER X KATE THE CHASER HEADCANONS-PART I!]彡★

A gift for @necroromantics for introducing me this lovely ship!!

You can request some more since I've realized that I had had so many headcanons about them, and this post is only about the beginning of their relationship!

Also sorry for grammar mistakes lol

: ̗̀➛Kate is someone who has a very difficult time about expressing herself emotionally. And she had no problem with that because this was the first of the things that made her an excellent proxy. Until she met Nina, she always lived her feelings buried inside. And frankly, she tried to prevent even that.

: ̗̀➛So, she was a complete emotional mess until she met Nina. But Nina helped her to live with her feelings. She still doesn't exactly express what she feels, but at least she doesn't keep every human reaction inside.

: ̗̀➛Nina is an extremely joyful and energetic person, so she often receives warnings that she should be more calm from other people.

: ̗̀➛But not so with Kate. Kate loves these energetic states of her, no matter how annoying it is, and she never wants her to change. She wants Nina to experience all the emotions she feels openly and to the fullest. And if anyone tries to warn her, she's ready to fight.

: ̗̀➛Kate doesn't remember anything about her previous life. She doesn't remember if she has a family, friends, what she likes, what her favorite type of music is, and a ton of other things. Although this is something that she doesn't usually care much about, Nina wants to help her learn more about her past.

: ̗̀➛This is not because she wants to remind Kate her bad memories, no. The reason is to eliminate the feeling of regret, which she does not show to anyone, that Kate feels about her past. Because Kate blames herself for letting her past be taken away from her, and Nina definitely doesn't want that.

: ̗̀➛Nina regrets her past. She's really embarrassed by the point her relationship with Jeff has brought her to and she wouldn't want to repeat any of those mistakes if she could. Furthermore, she is aware of everything now and has become a person who will not repeat the same things. She's made a lot of progress since her breakup with Jeff, and Kate has helped her with that. The fact that Kate did not judged her about her past in any way and acted understanding was really a very helpful factor for Nina.

: ̗̀➛The first person to fall in love is Kate. Still, of course Nina is the one who started the whole relationship thing, but Kate is the first one to realize that she has romantic feelings for the other.

: ̗̀➛Nina is also the first one to act. Nina explained her thoughts shortly after becoming aware of her own feelings. And that day was the happiest day of Kate's new life.

: ̗̀➛They have a relationship that started quite slowly. Their relationship, which initially started with Nina finding Kate very cool and constantly not leaving her side, later continued as Kate began to enjoy Nina's presence. After this phase, Nina continued to show even more of her true personality, with Kate noticing and caring about small details about her.

: ̗̀➛And one day, when Nina got off balance while she was trying to wave towards Kate at the same time she was skating, and Kate grabbed her by the waist, Kate became aware of some of her feelings.

: ̗̀➛Nina, on the other hand, has always considered Kate as an extremely cool friend. They had a great relationship and she certainly couldn't have asked for more. But once she saw Kate injured enough to cause her death if she left untreated, she realized she never wanted to lose her.

: ̗̀➛That day, when she saw Kate covered in blood, she never left her side and waited at the end of her bed until she woke up. During the time she was waiting, she cried thinking about what she would do if Kate didn't wake up again, and she started to question some things. She couldn't imagine any point of her life without Kate. That's when she realized it.

: ̗̀➛When Kate woke up, she couldn't understand why Nina was so worried. She also didn't understand why Nina was hugging her so tight, and even if it hurt, she didn't say anything to stop her.

: ̗̀➛After that, Nina visited her every day until Kate got better, brought her food and chatted. Nina talked most of the time because Kate was too exhausted to talk, but she didn't see it as a burden just because Kate seemed to be enjoying it.

: ̗̀➛Even though Kate is an attentive listener who stays silent most of the time, she became even quieter this time because of the crawling pain in her throat whenever she tried to talk. However, She showed by hand signals that she wanted Nina to continue talking and did not waste breath in vain.

: ̗̀➛A week later, while helping Kate walk, Nina couldn't take it anymore and explained her feelings. Although Kate was shocked because she did not expect such a thing, she tried to remain reasonable and agreed with Nina.

: ̗̀➛Nina hugged Kate so hard that she almost knocked down Kate, who was still recovering from her wounds, to the ground. Of course, Kate managed to keep her balance because she is too cool, but Nina was quite embarrassed and apologized many times.

: ̗̀➛For about two months Nina had been more careful towards Kate than usual. This was not only because their relationship had officially begun, but also because she saw Kate needed help for the first time.

: ̗̀➛Nina hasn't even left Kate's side to make sure that she's eating well, spending quality time, not pushing herself on patrols, and a ton of other things. Although Kate definitely needed some private space and alone time, she also enjoyed having Nina by her side. She just wasn't used to having a human being with her for so long.

: ̗̀➛And after Kate fully recovered, they started having a lot of dates.

: ̗̀➛On these dates, they do more of the things that Nina wants, because Kate really likes to watch Nina be happy while doing the things she loves. That's why she often says she doesn't want anything and passes it off just for that reason.

: ̗̀➛Nevertheless, Nina knows what she likes and sometimes arranges surprise meetings and convinces her to do calmer things as well, such as skateboarding, playing horror games, watching movies, hiking in the forest, listening to songs together. Kate is really grateful for this.

...

"I love you babe, I love you more than anything. "

"Thank you, sweetie. "

"Won't you say anything? "

"Love you too. "

"Aw, I love you more, love. "

"Come here. "

"Gonna kiss me? "

"Better."

"Stooop, hahaha! "

"Never."

"No, haha, don't you dare, haha, to tickle me, haha! "

"You look cute when you're laughing. "

"Stop, haha, I beg, haha, haha! "

"Hmm, I can stop if you kiss me. "

"Finee, haha! "

"I love you. "

"Me too, me too. "

[lesbicosmos]

rewatching s1 of broadchurch even tho im halfway through my first watch of s3 because i have an obsession with rewatching things and DAMN there are way more hints at who ended up being the killer than i originally thought, and a bunch of moments that are really ironic in hindsight

spoilers under the cut (yes it came out like 10 years ago but im still putting a spoiler warning)

ep1 - joe and ellie talk in the kitchen after hardy makes the statement to the media

joe: do you know what happened? i mean should we be worried for other kids?

on first watch, his tone of voice and body language here just seem like confused and worried parent, but on second, there's definitely a hint of panic in his voice

ep2 - joe, tom and fred in the cafe

joe: this is a terrible, unspeakable thing thats happened. but nothing like it will ever happen again here

tom: you cant know that though can you? you cant be sure

then after this joe's facial expression looks SO guilty like he can't think how to respond

ep3 - hardy questioning tom with joe in the room

hardy: can you think of anyone who would want to hurt danny?

THEN THE CAMERA IMMEDIATELY CUTS TO JOE. ik near the end joe swears he never wanted to hurt him but this is still a rly clever piece of editing, i love when shows do this. also the fact that in every scene where he's questioning tom, joe's in the room and occasionally talks but he's never in the frame of the camera hardys using to record it. he was literally right under their noses the entire time and they never suspected because they were focused on other people too much

ep4 hardy goes to the millers" for dinner

this scene hits so much different on second viewing holy shit. at one point they're talking about marriage and work and how hardy's divorce was partially work-related and:

hardy: this job, it does it to you

ellie: well, not to us

ellie actually makes me sob she loves her life so much then it all just comes crashing down on her

joe: do you think you're gonna solve this case?

hardy: certain.

joe: good :)

joe's reply itself here makes sense but there's a few seconds before he says it where his face is just blank and mildly panicked. he's genuinely worrying about being caught at this point.

now this one isn't a direct hint or anything but just if you think about the dialogue in a different context...yeah it fits

hardy: you bloody liar

joe: ive said nothing

hardy: and yet-

joe said nothing to the police or ellie and yet was lying the WHOLE time.

ep5 - brian asks ellie out

ellie: sorry, im married

brian: and thats an issue is it?

ellie: happily married, brian

brian: oh. okay, fair enough. only lots of people aren't though, are they?

ellie: i am.

THE IRONY OH ELLIE LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG PLEASE

ep6 - jack's wake

ellie spends the whole scene looking around to see if anyone looks worried, at one point she looks into a room (seemingly at nige but joe is stood nearby having a different conversation) and she makes eye contact with joe RIGHT as the camera cuts away

ep 6 - joe takes tom to the skate park and ellie arrives

ellie: i was just looking round that bar at the wake thinking "its someone here, why cant i see it?" the longer this goes on, im starting to suspect everyone

joe: when you say everyone...

ellie: well, nearly everyone

this is probably the most obvious hint that i can't believe i didn't catch on to. of COURSE they're gonna make a point for the killer to be the ONE person ellie LITERALLY SAYS she isn't suspicious of.

ep7 - ellie lets susan leave the police station

ellie (about susan's past with her husband and daughters): in your own house, how could you not know?

just ow. the irony of it all. fucking ow.

[rhenuvee]

On Thin Ice [Figureskater!Kaeya x reader]

A/N: Based on this post here! // Sorry for inactivity and lack of fics! School had me STRESSED which is why I've been so busy.

Warnings: I have never figure skated (don't come after me figure skaters), flirty Kaeya

➽────────────❥

4:42pm

Perfect, is what you think to yourself when you see that time displayed on the giant clock above the empty rink. You don't even go to the change room, instead going to the nearest spot on the bleachers and sitting down to tie the rental ice skates you got.

Once you lace up the skates, you walk in a clunky way towards the rink entrance, stumbling a little while occasionally holding onto whatever you could grab near you. A little more than fifteen minutes should be enough for-

"Hey there~"

You're suddenly greeted by a figure who seemed to have spawned out of nowhere- you swear you don't remember seeing anyone on the ice. And if you saw a guy as handsome as this stranger, you'd certainly remember.

Said stranger briefly waved his two fingers to the side as a way to say "hi", then quickly returned to rest under his chin, as if he was curiously finding out who you were. His hair was a dark blue, tied in an attempted loop, but his hair was too long and just ended up falling over his shoulder. His outfit was very form fitting that you could see the outline of his collarbones.

But the worst part was probably that handsome smile of his. The corners of his lips were slightly upturned- it could almost be a smirk. The little glint in his eyes didn't help either. You had a feeling this was going to lead to trouble.

"Hi...?" you say awkwardly. You were cautious on what to say next.

"I regret to inform you but you do know it's still practice time for us figure skaters, no?" Your body freezes in embarrassment. It was even worse that this handsome guy probably thought of how clumsy you were.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know, I thought it was ok for the public because the lady at the front allowed me to come in and-"

"Whoa slow down, it's no big deal really." The dark blue-haired male put his hands up as if to give a signal to stop. He suddenly then holds his hand out, "I'm Kaeya." He starts an introduction to ease things with you. You in return, bring your hand to shake his.

"(Y/n)." you say, while your heart slows down its beating.

"So, what brings you here early, (Y/n)? Eager to skate?" he slightly teases at the fact that you were early to the real public skating time. You sigh, deciding to tell him. You probably weren't going to make this mistake again. This will be the last time you embarrass yourself in front of a hot guy.

"I'm going skating with my friends but the truth is, I don't know how to skate." Your friends asked you to participate in this winter activity while you never skated in your life before. When you complained they said "You'll be fine!" as a claim to reassure you and convince you to come. When you say these words, the corner of Kaeya's mouth quirks upwards, emphasizing the glint in his eyes.

"Oh? You don't know how to skate?" he asks. "Well it's easy." He then leaves the edge of the rink to push himself off and skate off, going backwards and purposely doing a little spin for you. Showoff.

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Professional." you groan as he skates his way back to you, stopping elegantly with ease. He laughs a little at your sarcasm.

"I could teach you." he offers. Kaeya glances at the clock, now reading 4:50. "It'll be quick, and I've been told I'm a good teacher."

You glance at the clock as well, seeing you had about ten minutes before your friends and other people would come into the arena. You figured if he was offering, this should be fine, right?

"If you say so... Just for a little bit though." You say a little panicked. It was almost time and you were hoping Kaeya got the message you just wanted to get the hang of 'walking' on ice, and then you'd be good. He smiles, then offers you his hand to take your first step on the ice.

You stumble onto the ice- both of you letting out a 'woah', then steadying yourself with his guidance. You laugh awkwardly, and so does he. Except Kaeya doesn't seem fazed at all. You slowly start to learn that Kaeya just naturally exudes this "naturally-cool person" aura.

"We'll take it slow, 'kay?" he aays to reassure you. "Try walking in little steps and push off the ice. You can hold my hands if you want to."

Your heart is suddenly aware of the double meaning in that last sentence. Your eyes look up, but end up only seeing Kaeya's expression with just a regular smile. You can't seem to read him, because you swore his tone was a little different... But you decide to let it go, since it'd be silly. This is just a skating lesson, right?

You start taking your first steps like a toddler learning to walk- a little unsteady. But ever so often you find yourself randomly losing balance.

"-Kaeya!" you shriek in a moment of panic, one hand grabbing onto the wall nearby and the other with his arm holding you.

"It's alright, I've got you." he says stabilizing you. "Bend your knees a little when you skate, that should give you more stability."

You follow his directions while not fully letting go of his hand, his fingertips lightly holding yours. After a few minutes of readjusting yourself to get acquainted with the rink, you make a bit of progress, finally grasping how to walk... even if it is still a bit slow and wobbly.

Kaeya acknowledges this and applauds for you with a smile.

"There we go, now you're ready to do more difficult things, yes? How about this~" He leaves you for a brief moment, giving a little elegant spon. You roll your eyes, knowing he's just teasing.

"Yes of course." you say sarcastically, which he chuckles at.

"Okay, let's try stopping now." He skates to a short distance away from you then faces back towards you. "Skate towards me, then stop by pushing your legs out into a V-shape like this." He demonstrates the basic stopping technique for you, then signals you to start.

You start taking your steps on the ice, you gain a steady pace before you decide to try stopping. Except you don’t come to a complete stop… You push your feet out and you slow down but it’s not enough.

“Whoa there…” Kaeya’s voice sounds closer than you thought. When you look up you’re met with his dark blue eyes. You realize your attempt to stop has clearly failed, as you end up right in front of Kaeya who gives you a wink and devilish smile. “Take me out to dinner first, sweetheart.”

Your face instantly warms up as you fall victim to his remarks. You internally tell yourself that this is probably normal for him since he’s keeping up these shenanigans.

“Kaeya- ah!” You try to recover and conceal your reaction by pushing him away, but it instead pushes yourself away, making you almost lose balance. But Kaeya’s quick, and he catches your hand in time to support you back. He chuckles while hiding his laughter behind his hand.

“Sorry for teasing you. It’s kind of fun seeing your reaction, you’re quite cute you know that?”

His statement catches you off guard. One after the other, more surprises keep coming your way, and you are kind of doubting this one… There’s no way someone like him found you cute, right??

Before you could think of a response, another voice cuts in.

“Having fun, Kaeya?”

You both turn to look behind Kaeya, where there were two men standing outside the rink on the other side of the glass. They both had blonde hair and blue eyes- though the one who spoke was taller, while the other had more of a platinum blonde and slightly longer hair.

“Ah- Dainsleif… how long have you been here? I thought you went home already.” You watch as Kaeya seems really good at masking his emotions, giving a smile to ‘Dainsleif’ as he interrupted.

“I’ve been here since you called yourself ‘a good teacher’,” Dainsleif says sarcastically. Kaeya internally sweat-drops at this. “A good teacher should know your practice time was done thirty minutes ago.”

“Right, my mistake.”

Dainsleif turns to leave, with the other guy not really paying any mind and giving Kaeya a smile and a wave goodbye. Kaeya waves back sheepishly, then breathes out a sigh of relief turning back to you.

“Sorry about that. That was my instructor…”

“It’s okay.” You reply. You get the feeling that Dainsleif was the stern type, making him quite scary.

“As much as I’d like to continue, he’s right. My practice time ended already.” As he says this you realize the time is 5:00, which meant it was the public skate time. You can’t help but feel that fifteen minutes with him went by too quickly… "And you're going skating with your friends, right?"

“You were a great teacher, thank you.” He only helped with skating and stopping but you figured it was better than looking like a noob with the skating walker.

“Well I’m glad one person thinks so.” He jokes. You both giggle as he leads you to the entrance of the rink again. There are a few people starting to come in.

You and Kaeya carefully step out of the rink. He starts untying the laces while you sit beside him, leaving yours on for later. You both sit in a comfortable silence for a bit. While he packs up, you're unsure of what to say- or if you even should say anything. Your frantic thinking goes on for a bit longer than you expected, as you realize Kaeya was finished and was ready to leave.

Where exactly do you go from here? He was just a stranger you met who was gracious enough to teach you some skating basics. You were hoping the butterflies he gave you in your brief time with him, wasn't just for fun. Your heartbeats slow down, thinking you've lost your opportunity.

"W-wait..."

Your heart acts before your head could stop you. Kaeya hears what you said, and you suddenly panic, not even knowing what you want to say

"You... haven't taught me how to get up if I fall on the ice." you stammer, trying to save yourself. Kaeya seems to buy it as his face looks as if he's giving it some thought. "I mean- It's okay though! I know you have to leave, and it's time for me as well..."

"You're right..." There is a short pause. You can't help but feel that there were some gears turning in his head. He then puts his hand in his pocket, retrieving his phone, swiping on it a few times and handing it facing you. "Guess you'll have to come back for another lesson, right?"

Your eyes widen as you read what's on his screen- the contact screen, the empty space with the little line blinking straight at you. You look back at him. He was smiling, but his expression seemed softer from the way the corners of his eyes curved down.

“Really...?” You ask cautiously. You hoped that he was talking about the same thing. He nods, his smile still prominent.

"I wasn’t kidding about dinner either, by the way.” You almost choke on your own saliva with how forward he is. "Were you kidding about it?"

"No- well I mean yes- I didn't mean to bump into you like that! You were poking at me!" It's hard for you to keep a deadpan expression towards him while feeling your cheeks getting warmer. You enter in your number in his phone.

"You're on thin ice, Kaeya. But you're lucky that you know a thing or two about ice." He laughs, as he can appreciate the joke. You finish putting your number in his phone.

"I am, aren't I?"

As you waved and said your goodbyes, you couldn't stop the smile forming on your face, knowing there would be a next time with Kaeya.

➽────────────❥

[sports-on-sundays]

Summary: ice skating with Arthur

Requested?: it came from my own mind.

This thing with you and Arthur- it's relatively recent. About three months ago you officially got together, but you've known each other for years before that, just as friends, really. Either way, your relationship- perhaps because you've known each other for so long- has been growing deeper rapidly. Which means your relationship is now deep enough for the two of you to start having arguments. Well, more like silly little squabbles.

The most recent one was concerning Christmas. Arthur had this strange vision in his head that he couldn't let go of that just the absolute best way to celebrate his Christmas with you would be to go ice skating. The only explanation to this is that you can think of is that maybe your boyfriend has been watching a little bit too many overly cheesy American Hallmark movies. At first you thought, No way. Only divorced millennial women watch that crap. But then you thought, But at the same time, it's Arthur. Who knows what planted his strange Perfect Christmas Magic Movie Scene In France dream.

You fought him on it because, frankly, you've never skated before. You know you'll make a fool of yourself and possibly injure yourself. Not exactly what you want to spend your Christmas doing. And not exactly your idea of romantic. Not to mention how much you hate anything having to do with being outdoors when the weather is in the negatives.

But he was set on the idea, and when your boyfriend is set on an idea, as you've been learning, it's hard to convince him otherwise. And finally he had taken your hands, looked you deep in the eyes as if this were the most important thing in all of history, and asked gently, "But Y/n, why? Why don't you want to go? I mean, really. We can bundle up, I'll stick close- it won't be that cold..."

You frowned, looking away, refusing to admit the truth.

"Come on!" he had practically whined. "Just tell me the truth! Isn't that what couples are supposed to do?"

You sighed, fiddling with your fingers, before finally admitting, talking quickly, "Arthur I've never skated before in my life and I don't want to fall and make a fool of myself."

He blinked in slight surprise, but then smiled. "Oh... Why didn't you just tell me? It's fine- I'll make sure you don't fall. It'd be nice to be able to help you."

Your brow knitted together. "Nice to be able to help me?"

"Yeah. Because you hardly ever let me help you."

So in the end, basically, he convinced you. And now here you are, sitting on a freezing cold bench, holding out your legs as Arthur ties your new skates up, which he bought for you. They're a shiny, slick black color with a red stripe. You can't deny- they do look pretty sick.

The two of you get up and walk the few steps to the rink, arms linked. The wind is biting, and despite the Christmas music playing and the glowing fairy lights everywhere, to you it feels like quite a bleak winter night.

But one look at Arthur's big smile and rosy cheeks convinces you it's really not so bad.

Then you go out on the ice. Arthur holds both your hands in his, staring at you with sincere eyes. And with that goofy grin, of course.

And then he lets go of your hands, just like that!

"Arthur!" you shout, your nerves on the edges as you hobble. He tries to take your hands again, but you fall down, right on your butt. "Arthur!" you cry again, in annoyance. "I thought you said you wouldn't let me fall! Now I probably look like an idiot- someone here is bound to have caught that on video. I don't wanna look like a-"

"Hey, calm down," he says, bending down. You have a passing thought of how much balance and awareness of his body he must have to be able to bend down that naturally in skates on slippery ice without falling flat on his handsome face. "I'm sorry, okay? From now on, I won't let go of you unless you tell me to. And don't worry- there aren't many people around tonight. It's too cold for them."

"It's too cold for me, too," you whine as he helps you up off the hard ice. You reckon that will leave a bruise or two.

He gives a dumb pouting face. "Come on, Y/n. You'll warm up soon enough. Let me teach you how to skate."

"I don't trust you," you frown, and you'd cross your arms if you weren't holding onto Arthur's shoulders for dear life.

"You should!" he counters.

"You let me fall!"

"I said I wouldn't let you go again. And that I'm sorry. Do you think I'm not strong enough to make sure you don't fall?"

You don't answer, because obviously he is.

And then your long evening of learning begins. Time is hard to measure, so you're not sure how long it takes until Arthur asks you, "Do you think I can let go? You seem to have the hang of it..."

But in a moment of self-doubt, you shake your head no and murmur, "No... You can just hold onto me, Arthur."

And he honestly doesn't seem to mind this answer. He takes you out to the middle of the ice, though, and slowly, you skate together. He then twirls you, which causes you to scream, laugh, and cling onto him, scolding, "You could've warned me!"

"Well, did you fall?"

"No..."

"Was that fun?"

You grin softly. "Sure. Yeah."

"So there was no need to warn you!" And suddenly, he does it again.

Soon enough, though, you're back on the bench where you started, shivering, slipping back on your warm, fuzzy boots. "A-Arthur..." you whine, you teeth chattering and splitting up your speech, "I- It's fr-fr- eezing...! I'm so c-c-cooold."

He's silent for a few seconds, and when you look up at him, you see there's a frown on his face. He turns and meets your eyes, murmuring, "Y/n... I'm sorry..."

You blink in surprise. "For what?"

"I don't know..." He's sitting on the edge of the bench, shifting. "I know you didn't want to do this and probably the whole time you were just pretending you were having fun but really you weren't and I should've just listened to you when you said this wasn't your thing so-"

"Arthur." You cup his cheeks, making him look you in your eyes instead of down at the snow-covered ground. "I wouldn't fake it or lie to you. It was something I genuinely thought I would hate. But it ended up being so much fun because of you. I loved it when you taught me. I loved it when you held onto me. I loved it when you twirled me. I know I've been acting a little grumpy, but the truth is, I don't regret coming at all. I'm so glad you convinced me. Okay? Sure, I'm a little cold right now, but I'll live."

"Oh..." he nods, that lovely smile slowly coming back. "Well..." He wraps his arm around you, pulling you into him. He kisses your cheek, love, comfort, warmth channeling through his lips. "Maybe I can help keep you warm, huh?"

You smile out at the, truthfully, beautiful winter scene, and nod. "I think that would be just perfect, Arthur."

[whatwouldsylwrite]

hockey!Abby x dancer!reader pt8 (end)

pt 1 pt 7.75

Abby gets injured during practice.

Tags: modern au, fluff, fem!reader, shy reader, reader is into sexy/girly dances, Abby is a sweetheart, switching pov. Swearing (a lot of), kissing.

Notes: inaccurate display of: hockey player's injuries (it's not the most common one, but I'm not hurting Abby's pretty face); american health system - i just decided if it's so expensive they probably give you everything at the hospital? google didn't really help here, so sorry if it offends anyone.

A/N: that's all, folks! This is the last part of this story. Thank you all so much for reading it and enjoying it with me! The story was pretty fluffy and I wanted to give it some balance, so this part happened. I hope you'll like it as well.

But as I said before, I'm going to write some blurbs about them, so this is not their last appearance. (currently I have like 5-6 ideas for them, and half of them are requests that I really liked but didn't have time/mental space to write).

Thank you again! <3

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

"You know what, Abs?" Manny asked while they were changing for the practice. "I could really use some love advice."

Abby scoffed and raised her eyebrows at him, not really sure what the fuck he meant by it and why he even needed it.

"Love advice? Do I look like the Elle girl advice column to you?"

"You got your chick somehow, yeah? So you probably did something right."

"Do you want to ask your weather girl out?" Abby finally put two and two together. She knew they were friends with benefits, but she didn't expect Manny, of all people, to catch feelings. "Man, you fucked up."

"Come on, share your lady loving wisdom."

"Just be honest with her. It will only get worse if you keep it bottled up." Abby shrugged and put her helmet on, eager to escape Manny and his strange love problems. 

"That's how you got (y/n) to date you?" Manny asked with suspicion while they were going on the ice for the warmup.

"I asked her on a date. Do the same." Abby said sharply and skated away. She wasn't going to deal with Manny's uncertainties when everything was resolvable if he'd decide not to be a coward. 

Something was…not right with the way Abby's right skate slid on ice, but Abby couldn't really understand what and didn't pay any mind to it, thinking she was just imagining things and getting paranoid. She thought if she just willed her mind to think her skate was fine, it'd actually become fine. 

And it was fine during the first half of the warmup, so Abby decided she was just overthinking and seeing things that were not there. Eric instructed them on the group warmup and Abby gladly got into the position, ready to kick her teammates' asses. Everything was just the same, she skated as fast as she could, getting past her pretend opponents and scored a few times. 

And then everything wasn't just the same. 

Abby was doing a hockey stop when something happened and suddenly she was falling on the ice with the speed of a fast hockey player, her head, shoulder and knee hit the floor so hard and painful she didn't even notice the real problem yet. She groaned and sat up immediately, while Manny skated to her, worried. 

"Abs, are you okay?"

"Shit." Abby groaned as her head spun a little. She moved her shoulder to check if anything serious happened, but it was mostly fine. She started to stand up, but when she put weight on her right foot the pain shot through her body and she actually let out a short cry as she fell on her ass. "My ankle, fuck, I can't stand on it." Abby said, panting from sudden pain that wasn't going away. 

Everyone was coming to them to check if everything was alright, and Abby hated it, hated having attention in a moment of weakness, hated that people got worried. 

"You need a doctor." Manny said and motioned to their teammates to help him get Abby up. 

Him and Jesse pulled Abby up and let her put her weight on them as they skated her back to benches. Abby tried to close off from everyone emotionally, but Eric's disgruntled face made her irrationally upset. Boys helped her sit on a bench and Abby started untying her skate on the right ankle with a rush, hoping to prove she was fine and she just twisted it and everything was going to be fine. 

"What happened?" Eric asked in a tense voice.

"I have no fucking idea." Abby growled and took her skate off, examining it.

The fucking screw. The fucking screw fell off and her blade was unstable and that was why she felt off on the ice the whole practice. Abby wanted to smack herself in the face - she always checked her skates, she knew it could happen, it was a fucking rookie mistake.

"The blade got unscrewed." Abby said way too neutral.

"You didn't check your skates before you went on ice?!" Eric erupted, annoyed and angry. "Anderson, are you five?" 

Abby didn't say anything, because she didn't have an explanation why she forgot to check, she couldn't even understand it herself. 

"Amazing." Eric huffed. "Abby, the next game is in a week, what the fuck are we supposed to do now?"

"I just twisted my ankle." Abby bit back. "I'll be fine in three days."

Abby took the second skate off and stood up to prove her point, but she immediately sat back down as she felt her ankle just sinking down to her foot as if nothing was keeping it in place.

"Yeah no shit you twisted it." Eric rolled his eyes. "Fucking hell, Abby, the whole fucking season will go to shit now because you didn't fucking check your skates."

"Don't be dramatic." Abby rolled her eyes, but his words were getting to her. She knew her ankle wasn't twisted - it was more serious, and she wouldn't be on ice for god knows how long, and she was one of the best in their team, people were relying on her, and now she let them down. 

"Come on Abs, you need to go to the hospital, it doesn't look good." Jesse pointed at her already swollen ankle. 

"Yeah I know." Abby bit back and Jesse just rolled his eyes in return, refusing to deal with her shit. 

"I'll drive you. Come on, let's go pack your bag." Manny said too cheerfully, knowing what a bitch Abby could be when something was out of her life order. Eric just huffed and went out of Manny's way.

Abby didn't say anything and let Manny support her as she hopped all the way to the lockers on one leg. They didn't talk and Abby was glad - she really didn't want to discuss the whole situation. She clumsily changed her clothes while Manny waited and chuckled when Abby swore in irritation. 

"Ready?"

Abby glared at him and Manny just laughed, taking her bag in one hand and supporting Abby with the other as they slowly made their way to Abby's car. 

Fuck, she couldn't drive anymore. Abby felt her chest tighten from her frustration, but she kept it to herself. Manny took her driving seat and started the car. 

"Maybe call (y/n), let her know what happened?" Manny suggested carefully. 

The thought of worrying you almost made Abby cry from anger - not only she let her team down, but now she couldn't take care of you the way she wanted, and even more, you'd be the one to worry about her and take care of her, because she knew you wouldn't leave her alone and let her lick her wounds in peace, you were just as caring as she was. 

Abby opened your chat, going for an easy option - she couldn't handle hearing your concerned voice and managing her emotions at the same time right now.

to: dancing queen

I hurt my ankle during practice

Manny is taking me to the hospital

Abby sent her messages and locked her phone, not sure now if she'd be able to handle your concerned texts. She tapped her fingers nervously and Manny looked at her, curious.

"You texted her?"

"Yes."

"Good." Manny turned the wheel. "You know Eric is an asshole, right? He talks shit all the time."

"But he is right, if I'm not on the ice the whole team is fucked."

"Fuck you, we can play just fine." Manny laughed. "If we always relied on you then what's the whole point of the team? I promise you, I'll personally put these pucks for you while you're home. Each one of them is going to be for you, Anderson."

"Yeah, I don't think there's going to be a lot." Abby snorted, getting some sense of normality back with the way they bantered. Manny hit her shoulder playfully and she laughed a little. 

Her phone buzzed with the notification.

from: dancing queen

r you okay? 

I mean

Obviously not

But how bad is it? 

Abby felt her heart clench in her chest with how typically you your texts were. 

to: dancing queen

Can't step on my foot, i need to get an x-ray

from: dancing queen

this sucks :(

I'll come to your place tonight

If it's okay

?

to: dancing queen

Ofc 

Abby typed it, but she wasn't sure if it was a good idea: she wanted you to comfort her, but the thought of you seeing her being weak made her feel ashamed. She couldn't say anything else to you now, her head was not in the right space anymore, so she locked her phone until she got a new notification.

from: dancing queen

Text me when you get your results, ok?

to: dancing queen

Yes ma'am

from: dancing queen

Love you ❤️

we'll figure it out

to: dancing queen

Love you too

Abby took a sharp breath to keep her tears at bay, trying to ignore your last message: she was supposed to say these things to you, she was supposed to take care of you, to soothe you and fix your problems, not the other way around, and if she just fucking checked her fucking skates nothing of this would have to happen. 

Manny didn't try to talk to Abby anymore until they came to the hospital. 

The whole ordeal didn't take a long time: they quickly got Abby's information, the doctor looked her ankle over and sent her for an x-ray, all professionally uncaring, just like all doctors were. It kept Abby grounded, the familiar place and familiar attitude of her father, all calm and all-knowing, like everything was manageable and fixable and nothing was truly a disaster. 

Manny helped Abby to get to the x-ray room and after that they just stayed and waited for a doctor to come and tell what was wrong with her ankle. Abby already knew he'd say it sprained, and she knew it meant 3 weeks of not leaving home and not stepping on her foot, a few days of RICE, and a bunch of fucking problems and a nasty recovery. 

Fuck she felt awful. 

The doctor came and said the same thing - she sprained her ankle, no movements, put the ice on, wear compressions and keep the foot on something higher than her body position. Abby knew all of it. 

The doctor gave her two options for her ankle: either a cast or a heavy duty ankle brace, which was a much better option, so Abby got her brace and a pair of crutches. 

Abby looked at them with a heavy heart: she knew how useful they were and how much her life would be better with them, but for some reason she felt like they were the last thing that just cemented the thought that this was it. She was going to be dependent on other people, and she would be taken care of, not the other way around. And it made her feel weak, and she hated it. Her independence and self-reliance was something she just couldn't let go of, and this situation was forcing her to let go, and it was making her angry. 

Abby accepted the crutches and it took her a few minutes to get the hang of it, but it was so much easier to move now and Abby felt relieved - at least she didn't need Manny to help her walk now. She was wrong - the crutches were not the last nail in the coffin with her independence, they were the thread that kept her independence alive. 

from: Abby

My ankle is sprained, but it's not too serious 

Manny is driving me home rn

You looked at your phone and sighed from relief: you were worried Abby's ankle might be broken, or worse, her ligaments fully torn. The sprains were nasty and annoying, you knew it from experience, but it was manageable and it didn't leave you fully immobile, which was a plus you get to appreciate after you get immobile.

to: Abby

I'm relieved it's not broken 

I'm on my way 

You already packed your bag with everything Abby'd need for her injury, including some snacks that could lift her mood up. You suspected she was upset but didn't want to show it or even talk about it - in these months you've been together sometimes it was a struggle to support Abby emotionally because she wouldn't share what was bothering her. Not every time, but she had some touchy topics and she'd be grumpy for a few days, processing it by herself, but trying her best not to be a bitch to you because of it. You appreciated that and didn't pressure her to talk to you, but sometimes you just felt like you didn't give Abby enough support. 

It was cold outside, but Abby's hoodie kept you warm under your coat as you waited on the stairs of Abby's apartment building for her to come home. You put your cold hands into your pocket and waited until you saw the familiar car pulling over. 

Manny was driving, and you felt like it was wrong, but you were really thankful Abby had someone to take care of her and help her when you weren't around. You came closer to the car while Manny helped Abby get out of it, handing her her crutches. 

"Hi." You said gently and hugged Abby as carefully as possible. She couldn't return your hug, her arms supporting her weight, but you didn't expect her to. "How are you?"

"Fine." Abby said in a blank voice, but you didn't comment on it - she was definitely not in the mood and it was justified. 

You looked at Manny and he just rolled his eyes, definitely telling how much not in the mood Abby was. 

You decided not to ask any questions until you got Abby comfortable and safe, so you made some small talk with both of them, trying to bring Abby back from her head. She was keeping up with the conversation, but you saw how slowly but surely she was getting pissed off because it took her so long to climb the stairs. After a flight she just handed her crutches to Manny and started jumping over the stairs, holding to the railings as she went. It was indeed faster, and after ten minutes you were finally home. 

"Thanks man." Abby said when Manny put her bag down on the floor. 

"That's nice to hear." Manny smirked and patted her shoulder. "Get better, Abs. Make your ankle your bitch and heal it."

Abby chuckled and you hugged Manny goodbye.

"Thank you for taking care of her." You said quietly.

"That's what friends are for. She gave me love advice, I gave her a ride to the hospital. Good night, ladies."

Abby let out a long sigh and started taking her coat off. You did the same, and when all street clothes were taken off, you followed Abby to the hall, patiently waiting for her to move. Abby sat down on the sofa and you sat beside her, taking her hand in yours.

"What did the doctor say?"

"The ligament isn't torn fully, but it won't heal fast." Abby said, her voice just a little tense. "Three weeks at home."

You opened your bag and took a bottle of chocolate milk you bought for her. 

"That's to cheer you up a little." You smiled and got a small, faint smile in return, but it was more than enough for you. "Okay. I've been through this shit before, so I bought some things that can make it easier and faster."

You took a few tubes and showed them to Abby, who was still grumpy and tense. 

"This is from the bruises, because they're going to be big, this is a painkiller but actually has some repair effect, and these are vitamins that can help with healing."

You laid it all on the sofa and Abby looked it over with the most blank face you saw in all this time you knew her, and it was making you anxious.

"You also need to put something cold on it right now, it'll help with the swelling."

"Yeah, I fucking know, I'm a fucking med student." Abby rolled her eyes and you froze, immediately shutting up. 

That hurt. You swallowed the lump that suddenly got stuck in your throat, wounded by Abby's tone and her irritation with you when all you wanted was to help her and take care of her. 

There was a tense silence and Abby shut her eyes in guilt as the situation dawned on her, but before she could say anything you started talking despite the lump in your throat and pain in your chest and shaking hands. 

"Abby, don't talk to me like that. I know you're upset, but please don't take your frustrations on me." You said in a surprisingly steady and strict voice. You didn't deserve to be treated like this, especially by your girlfriend, especially when you were trying to take care of her.

Abby looked guilty, but her face got closed off for a moment as if she considered shutting you out, and you felt like something was dying inside of you because of it. 

"Fuck, sorry." Abby sighed with guilt, not looking at you, clearly too vulnerable for her liking. Something eased up in you after you heard her voice: she was trying to resolve this, and this what actually mattered. Abby looked at you, finally, with guilty puppy eyes and it calmed you down a little, knowing she wasn't turning it into a fight. "I just- fuck." 

You got closer to her, taking her hand in yours again. You put your feelings away for now, fully concentrating on making Abby feel safe to open up.

"Hey, I understand." You said in a gentle soft voice. "Been there. We can talk about it if you want, or you can vent. It's fucking annoying, isn't it?"

Abby shut her eyes tightly, her jaw tense - she was trying so hard to keep calm and not cry. She even turned away from you, embarrassed of her weakness, but you were patient. 

"Yeah." She said in a strained voice, her crying bubbling up in her throat. 

You hugged Abby carefully and the dam broke. Abby sniffled and silently cried in your arms, all frustration and guilt from the day getting out as you caressed her head and shoulders, soothing her. Abby relaxed against you, fully leaning on you not physically, but emotionally.

"It's so fucking annoying, the stupid screw fucked everything up." Abby said in a hoarse voice somewhere in your neck, her tears hot on your collarbones. "And fucking Eric just kept saying shit how we'll lose now because I'm not going to play." 

"Asshole." You huffed. "Fuck him." 

Abby chuckled halfheartedly and stayed in your arms for a few minutes, calming down, her head getting clearer. 

"I'm sorry I snapped at you." Abby said in a small voice. "This whole thing sucks."

"It does." You kissed the top of her head. "Abby, I'm not scared of your anger or any negative emotions, okay? You can fuck this whole room up and I'll cheer you on, but don't fuck me up because of it."

You were shaking but your voice was steady. You knew Abby needed to hear that, and you needed to show her your limits, so even if your anxiety was going through the roof as you were saying these words, they needed to be said. 

"'m sorry." She said again, now even more guilty. 

"Thank you." You kissed her forehead. "It wasn't okay, but we're okay." You said just as gently as before and Abby hugged you tighter. 

You were still a little shaky, your heart still ached, but you weren't mad anymore. You kissed her forehead again, the desire to soothe her growing by the second.

"What happened?" 

"My blade got unscrewed. I felt that something was wrong, but ignored it. So I went for a stop and my skate broke down."

"Oh god." You imagined Abby falling on the ice and you felt awful. "Does anything else hurt?"

"Shoulder's bruised I think."

"Okay. What if I run you a bath, then we will sort out all the medicine and then you'll rest? I'll order some food if you want."

Abby suddenly got very aware of how hungry she was.

"Yeah." 

"Cool." You kissed Abby quickly, happy she was letting you take care of her. 

Abby felt shy for some reason, waiting for you to run her a bath. She wasn't used to anyone taking care of her, so it made her feel useless and confused, but in a good way. Abby felt awkward just waiting, she wanted to do something, so she started stripping while you fixed the water temperature. Her right shoulder was bruised, but it didn't really hurt to move it. 

"Okay. So, as a sprained ankle veteran, I have some tips." You said comically and Abby smiled. "I know you're tough and strong, but don't try to get inside in one go. Sit on the edge and then slowly turn around."

Abby huffed - that should have been obvious, but she also wanted to get in the bath in one go because she was not a little bitch, so you caught her there. The pants were tricky to take off, but you helped Abby with it, sitting her down on the edge as you tugged them all the way down. The brace was lying on top of Abby's clothes and you looked over her swollen ankle.

"My poor baby." You cooed and kissed Abby's cheek. Abby huffed, embarrassed, but deep down she enjoyed you babying her like this. "I can tell you something that I'm not supposed to tell you." 

Abby got in the bath carefully, relaxing and letting the long sigh out.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I usually get so fed up with hopping, I start putting my weight on my ankle after a week. It's a bad idea, so don't do it."

"I think you told me that so I could do it." Abby chuckled.

"Well,  I know you'll get fed up with it, so I thought I could get you to not stand on your foot for at least a week." You smiled bashfully.

Abby's mood was going up a little as you talked to her. It felt almost normal, as if you were just hanging out. 

"Can I wash your hair?" You asked, shy, and Abby felt her chest bubbling up with affection. She squeezed your hand and nodded. 

You moved behind her and started massaging her scalp tenderly, and Abby relaxed, enjoying your fingers in her hair. Abby always got sleepy when someone was playing with her hair, and after this awful day your hands felt like a blessing, lulling her worries and anger away. You were so careful and gentle, so fucking loving Abby wanted to cry and to pray to whatever deity that made her stay at the dance studio that day. 

"Close your eyes, baby." You said quietly and Abby obeyed, letting you wash the shampoo away. She felt like with this shampoo something nasty went away, something that made her want to tell you to fuck off a half an hour ago when you were so kind to her. Abby couldn't deal with kindness very well, especially when she felt weak. Abby always reacted to people caring about her with anger, like a wounded animal that attacks a helping hand thinking it’s there to kill it. Abby hated pity, and kindness tore her apart and made her achingly vulnerable, but she was safe with you. You were handling her shit with care and love and she snapped at you in return and she wanted to cry again now.

"I'll never be mean to you again." Abby said nearly choked up by her shame, but she wanted to say it out loud, to promise this to you. 

"Baby." You said in a fond voice and Abby felt like she was on fucking fire from you being so gentle when she was vulnerable. She couldn’t actually say anything in return, her emotions, positive and negative, were making a molotov cocktail in her chest, burning through her as your fingers tenderly went over her body.

After bath you helped Abby dry her hair and change, and then you were both back on the couch while you explained some things to Abby about living with a sprained ankle that she probably didn't know, like wearing high socks with a brace because it would hurt otherwise. Abby put some ointments on while you went to get her high socks, and then you ordered some food while Abby put the brace on. Abby sipped her chocolate milk, so pleased with having something sweet to boost her mood. You really knew her, didn't you? 

"I'm going to be super unpleasant, but you need to email your professors." You said, and Abby groaned. She forgot about her classes, and now it would be such a pain in the ass to keep her grades in check while she would be at home.

“Oh yeah, my profs are going to kill me.”

“Not if I kill them first.” You said, completely serious, and Abby laughed. You looked like you were ready to kick her professors’ asses if they’d even think about not accommodating Abby now. “I’m serious, I’ll hunt them down if they give you a hard time.”

“Doll, you won’t hurt a fly.” Abby cooed at you and enjoyed your stern expression that made you even more cute. 

“I usually don’t have a good enough reason.” You shrugged. “I could be downright nasty if I wanted to.”

Abby, who's seen you telling people off, decided not to argue with that. 

“Do you want me to stay the night? Or would you prefer to have some space?” You asked carefully, and Abby got upset like a baby from the thought that you might leave, so she grabbed your hand and pulled you closer.

“Please stay.” 

This night Abby fell asleep in your arms as you hugged her from behind, her head tucked under your chin. Your breathing was deep and steady and Abby felt like your little form was protecting her from every worry, every self-deprecating thought, soothing her desperate anger, calming her sea storm like some kind of ancient goddess, turning her violent waves into a quiet tide as your gentle hands caressed her skin. 

Abby was safe with you in a way she wasn't safe with anyone since she was a small baby, and she seared this feeling on her heart, not letting herself ever forget how you made her feel. 

"Hey, (y/n)." Abby called quietly, not sure if you were awake. 

"Mhm?" 

"I'm going to marry you." 

You laughed quietly and kissed the top of her head, and Abby let you think she was just joking, but she knew that one day she'd buy a ring and get on one knee in front of you and make you hers for the rest of your lives, because you were the one for her. 

[hydropotato]

So I've been playing Warframe for about 100 days.

I think that should be a pretty decent amount of time for me to get a feel for this game, and well? Yes, but actually no. This game is, for lack of clearer initial description, Amazing.

I first heard of Warframe ages ago from friends playing it. Didn't think much about it. Then I heard We All Lift Together, and added it to my Spotify playlist because it rocks. Didn't think much about the game at that point either. And then one day, I saw a group of my friends playing it and streaming on Discord. "Decree"? "Secrets lie deep within the undercroft; the paradox gives us a means to extract them"? Girl with a skirt on a floating skateboard, firing bubbles at enemies and it kills them?

I was sold. I thought this is bonkers, I gotta check that out. But there was more.

I can't begin to really describe my experience starting off. You get to pick from three frames (sorry, not Loki, the future is now old man), and then you get to pick some starter gear. Every option you forgo in favour of the other becomes available later on, but I didn't know that. I was just stealthily nailing baddies to walls with my Paris and clumping hoards together with Mag's Magnetise, trying to learn how to bullet jump. Days became weeks, and I was unlocking new planets like it was no big deal. Well, it was. I had to learn how to make my gear and abilities work together (like using Pull to group enemies at my feet and then whacking them with my Bo), how to avoid Sentients' spinning beam attacks, how to mod my gear so that I wouldn't die immediately. Now and then I'd stumble upon other random players in public lobbies; you'd get the Titanias, the Wukongs, the Mirages, all speeding to the finish line before I knew what was happening. At some point I thought to myself, I should really go for another Warframe just to explore my options. Citrine stood out to me (her rock fires rainbow beams, and she's a solid support that has good damage potential), and she wasn't too difficult to gain access to.

Then came the farming. Getting Citrine's components required you to do waves of a Mirror Defence mission up to multiples of 4. I still remember clearly the dismay upon reaching round 3 for the first time, only for my teammates to all extract. I tried to protect the crystals on my own, only for the second one to get destroyed at the very last second of wave 4. I was distraught. It took me much begging in different friend groups for friends to accompany me to the later rounds, to finally get all her parts. It was then that I discovered how powerful a frame like Frost or Gara could be, but Frost, despite being easier to get, just didn't stand out to me aesthetically. So my next goals were Gara and Garuda. But for now Citrine. And Citrine continues to be my main.

I don't really want to explain every single thing that happened, but I got Garuda, got Yareli, though omg she's so fun lemme get her signature weapon, spent days skating across Orb Vallis for that bubble gun,

At some point I got a Kuva Lich, accidentally made it rank 5, killed it on my own somehow, then got a Sister of Parvos (Sleeping in the Cold Below is such an awesome song by the way), finished The New War, cleared the Star Chart, and unlocked the Steel Path.

I haven't even mentioned The Duviri Paradox, which is what I was referencing at the start of this post. That gamemode is so fun, even if all the premade builds for gear and frames are frankly dogwater that only works if

a. You're running normal mode, or

b. You're playing Rhino so it doesn't matter how he's modded, you just don't die and buff everyone

So yeah. This game rocks. It's massive, it's free to play (you can get the paid-for currency by selling stuff to other players if you want to spend platinum), and it's really worth getting into. No daily obligations, the game just waits for you. That, and there's plenty of time gates, so I felt motivated to take breaks, naps, and just relax. Even the dailies on the Nightwave (a battlepass but 100% free) have this system where once you complete the existing ones, any quests you missed from previous days/weeks reappear for you to complete (marked with the word 'Recovered). I could max out the Nightwave despite having started Warframe halfway into it.

Now, I do have some issues with it, though. Host Migration is probably the most annoying of issues, and I genuinely think that the game should just leave you at the previous host's instance, regardless of ping. Sure, if you were lagging you still will be lagging when they leave, but it'll be uninterrupted, you won't lose all your active abilities, I dunno. I just think it would work more smoothly.

Also.

Can they please rework Wukong? He appears in every mission. It's tiring. Give him a higher skill floor or something. Maybe make him targetable in cloudwalker, I dunno. This game is too much of a sandbox for players to be funnelling into one meta. We gotta encourage people to be more creative.

Also, make Arbitration drones enter the rift when they float into Cataclysm. They're the only thing that annoys me as Limbo in Arbies. Please and thank you.