#the others are mentioned technically but i won't tag them
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fern--theplant · 6 days ago
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i think the fact that we can see the vote count at the end should've been discussed more
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teaspoonofdragons · 5 months ago
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If. If I may.
Any Puyo AU (I like all your AUs okay) tidbits you're willing to share?
(You don't have to but. I just like Puyo Aus. And you. You don't shy away from the horrors. You embrace them. Yes/10 to all your AUs.)
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I meant to answer this like several weeks ago by now but I kept Forgetting NOW I'm here though.
There are several aus that I like, have not talked about on here and have spoken very little of to friends, mostly because for one reason or another I'm waiting to work on them more thoroughly. But here's a Pokemon Sig and a Digimon Sig!! Pokemon Sig has connections to a certain Pokemon related to "ideals" (whatever THAT means) and Digimon Sig is. well. he's a little antagonistic. I haven't decided HOW antagonistic yet but he steals an entire tank at some point and no I will not elaborate (Elaboration can come later, since that's one of the few things I have solidly decided WILL happen and I cannot be stopped. Sig WILL steal a tank)
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sanguineterrain · 2 years ago
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i'll put us back together at heart - s.h.
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Summary: It's 1987. You haven't spoken to Steve Harrington in nearly five years. Then Dustin Henderson tells you about a sweet deal he has at Family Video, where he can rent any movie he wants.
Pairing: ex-best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 8.8k
Warnings/tags: friends to strangers to lovers. the reader is twenty in 1987 and i technically made steve twenty-one/about to turn twenty-one. s4 happened but eddie's alive and vecna's dead. no earthquakes or anything like that; reader has no idea about what really happened. lots of angst, mentions of billy hargrove (yuck) and steve's s1 asshole friends.
A/N: oh my lord. i don't know where this eighteen-wheeler of a fic came from but here it is. there is a happy ending, not to worry. i'd never do that to y'all <3 feedback and reblogs are always always appreciated!
divider by firefly-graphics
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August 1981
"I wish we could stay eighth graders forever."
You lift your head from your orange pool floaty. Steve drifts on the surface of the water. His hair is longer, way longer than you've seen it in the three years you've been friends. He says it's better for styling that way; he's even bought a gel and cream for his hair. You don't understand why he wants to change something that doesn't need changing. 
"Why?" you ask. "I thought you were excited for high school."
He hums. The sound echoes in his backyard. 
"It's bigger than middle school. More kids, more teachers, more work. I like eighth grade."
"I'll help you with your work," you say. 
Steve turns his head and smiles at you. Part of his face is in the water, the image distorted. 
"You'll do great," he replies. "You're so smart."
Steve doesn't say those things to get you to help him like other kids do. Steve means it. 
"You'll do great too," you say. "You're funny and nice and my best friend. People will like you."
"You think?" 
You nod. Steve turns his head and closes his eyes again. 
"We'll stay friends, right?" he asks. 
The floaty squeaks as you move to sit up. You paddle to Steve so you can look at his face. 
"Why wouldn't we?"
"I dunno." His eyes are still closed. "You might make super smart friends. And I'll just be a dumbass holding you back."
You shove Steve's shoulder lightly. 
"You are not dumb, Steve."
One muggy June night had had Steve admit he wasn't thirteen, like you and all the kids in your class, but fourteen. He had been held back in third grade after his parents moved from Illinois. It's why my brain's mush, he'd said. I was born dumb.
He had made you swear not to tell anyone. 
"You're not dumb," you say again. "Say it, Steve. Say you're not dumb."
His frown deepens, but he still won't look at you. 
"Tommy says I am."
"Tommy Hagan is a shithead," you shoot back with so much venom, Steve's eyes fly open. "It's not true, whatever he tells you."
You hate that they've been hanging out more this summer. You can't tell Steve that, because it's not like you own him. He can be friends with whoever he wants. But you can't help that your skin crawls when Tommy and his stupid girlfriend, Carol, drops by and pulls Steve away from you. 
“Promise?” he asks.
“Yes, Steve. I promise.”
“‘Kay.” Steve smiles a little. “Thanks.” 
You nod and lay back on the floaty. 
“Wanna get ice cream after this?” he asks. 
“Just us?” 
“Just us.”
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Now. (January, 1987)
You slam the phone back onto the receiver. A girl playing Pac-Man carefully glances at you. 
Whoops. Right. You're still at work. 
You smile and give a thumbs-up. She turns around. You return to your wallowing. 
You’ve called three different video rentals. Jewel Films, which is about to go out of business; More Movies, whose attendant hung up on you before you could say Molly Ringwald; and finally, Blockbuster, which is thirty minutes outside of Hawkins. None of them have a copy of Pretty in Pink. 
And okay. You could just watch another movie. You don't need that specific one. But this year has been shit. You'd thought after starting college, you'd finally break out of the Hawkins forcefield that had limited your social life. You'd thought you'd make friends and not be so terribly lonely. Life is supposed to get better after high school, isn’t it? 
Obviously, whoever said that is a big, fat liar. 
“Dude!” you hear a familiar voice exclaim. “Stop hogging the game!”
Tawny curls peek from under a green and yellow hat. The hat hovers over an older boy who’s glued to the Tempest booth. You go to them. Dustin Henderson lights up when he sees you. You can read his hat now; it says Camp Know Where ‘85.
“Hey, Y/N!” he greets brightly. “This guy has been here for a half hour. I left to get nachos and when I came back, he was still here.”
“I’m this close to beating my score!” the kid insists.
“Come on, guy," you say, one arm on the machine. "You gotta give other people a turn."
The kid, evidently demon incarnate, sneers at you.
“Who’s gonna make me? You?” 
You lean against the side of the game, considering.
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” he says.
You snort. 
“Sixteen? And you’re still on Tempest?”
He glances at you. 
“So?”
“Everybody your age is playing Rampage, that’s all.” 
You wink at Dustin. He beams.
“And, uh, I saw a couple girls hanging around Rampage,” you add. 
The kid turns to you. You tilt your head innocently. 
“Seriously?” he asks.
“Seriously. People always flock to the new games.”
Which is true. The girls part is not, but he doesn’t need to know that. With that attitude, he won't be getting many phone numbers anyway. 
You drum your fingers on the game like you have all the time in the world. And sure enough, the kid takes his quarters and heads towards Rampage. Dustin jumps in delight. 
“You’re awesome, Y/N!" 
You grin. “I try. Where are the others?”
Dustin sours.
“They ditched me. To hang out with their girlfriends! Can you believe that shit?” 
“No way!"
He shakes his head.
“I know, right? My friend told me that that’s what happens in high school. People change, y’know? And he’d know, I guess. He’s old like you.”
You scoff. “You make me sound like some kind of ancient. I’m not that old, Henderson.”
“It’s okay, Y/N.” He pats your arm. “In many cultures, the elderly are wise. Now in my experience, this hasn’t been the case. But I think you’re wise.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Dustin smiles like the little shit he is and puts his change in the slot. 
“Well, contrary to what this other friend says, I’m sure it’ll pass,” you say. “You guys will hang out again." 
You swallow your acidic truth. Dustin's a good kid, and so are his friends. You don't want him to turn cynical like you have. He's too young. 
Dustin shrugs, starting the game.
“I guess so. I got a copy of The Lost Boys for us to watch on Friday. They said they’ll be there.”
“Whoa, seriously? That one just came out, how’d you get a copy?”
“My friend,” he says. “The one I mentioned. He works at Family Video and reserves stuff for me.”
“Huh. I thought Family Video was closed."
You'd applied to work there last year and never got a call back. You'd gone by once and it had looked abandoned. Hence why you now work at the arcade across town. 
"It almost did, but Keith took over so now it's barely scraping by."
"Ah. Sweet deal on the movies."
“Yeah,” Dustin agrees, eyes crinkling. “My friend's pretty cool. You'd like him."
"Would I now?"
"Absolutely," he gushes. "He's a total badass too. He won his first fight last year. He used to be a jock but he's recovered." 
"Wow. Impressive."
"Mmhm. I could ask him to hold stuff for you too, if you wanted.”
“You would?”
The game makes a sad game over noise. Dustin sighs and takes a gulp of his slushie.
“Yeah, totally,” he says through a mouthful of blue raspberry ice. “Which one do you want?”
“Pretty in Pink? I missed it in theaters."
“Sure. I’ll tell him to hold it tonight and tomorrow you can pick it up.”
“Cool. Thanks, Dustin.”
Dustin gives you an apple-cheeked grin.
“Gotta stay in good graces with the arcade attendant who lets me play Tempest as long as I want.”
"I don't know what you're talking about," you say, walking away. "Don't get slushie on the game."
"'Kay!"
Dustin only gets a little bit of slushie on the game, but he cleans it up with about a million of the cheap snack bar napkins. When he leaves, he tells you to mention his name at Family. 
"Who do I ask for?" 
"You can talk to either of them," Dustin says. "Doesn't matter. Except Keith. You know Keith, right?"
"Unfortunately.” Keith used to terrorize the arcade before he blessedly moved on. “He works there?"
"Barely." Dustin scoffs. "He's almost never there, so don't worry. And feel free to ask for more movies. They owe me one."
Your sole interactions are with professors and a gaggle of high school freshmen. But now you get to watch any movie you want. Maybe this year won't totally suck. 
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The bell rings pleasantly as you step inside. There's a few people on line, so you take your time walking in. There's a movie display with about thirty copies of RoboCop. A cardboard cutout of RoboCop stares back behind his red helmet.
"Can I help who's next?"
You go to the counter. A girl about your age with a choppy haircut smiles at you but it's sort of strained. She has a pin on her green work vest that says Ask me!
"Please don't ask for Adventures in Babysitting," she says. 
"Oh. No, I'm, uh, Dustin's friend?" 
You can't believe you're name-dropping a high schooler. 
She nods in realization. 
"Oh, yeah. God, I keep telling that dweeb not to promise holds."
You wince. 
"Sorry. If it's going to get you in trouble…"
Her brows raise. She smiles a bit. 
"No, it's okay. Usually my coworker deals with it but, well. He's taking an extra long break today. So, what movie was it?"
"Pretty in Pink," you say. 
"Classic," she replies. "John Hughes fan?"
"Somewhat. I didn't get to see it in theaters. I like Molly Ringwald."
She grins.
"Me too. She's pretty."
"Super pretty," you agree. 
The girl considers you, then sticks out her hand. 
"I'm Robin," she says. "Nice to meet you."
You take her hand. "Y/N.”
"Did you go to Hawkins High?"
"I did. Graduated last year."
"Oh, cool. Are you in college?"
You nod. 
"Hawkins State. Twenty minutes from here."
"Sweet! I'm taking a gap year, but afterwards, I’m gonna apply there. It's cheap. College is college, right?"
"College is college," you agree. "But I wish I'd gone away for school."
You don't know why you're telling her this. You've known Robin for all of two minutes. But she seems friendly. And her sense of style is cool. She wears a blue blazer and tie underneath her vest. 
"How come?" she asks. 
"Everybody from Hawkins is there," you say. "And I… I just want a new start."
Robin smiles sympathetically. 
"They're jerks," she says. 
You huff. "Yeah."
You'd turned yourself into a social recluse a million years ago. It's your own damn fault you can't befriend anybody in this town. At least, not anymore. 
Robin types into the computer, then smacks the monitor. She groans. 
"Ugh. Gimme a second," she says. "Stupid technology."
"No problem," you say, smiling. You like her. Maybe you can integrate Family Video into your regular routine, become friends. You can see Robin becoming a good friend. One you wouldn't grow apart from. 
She disappears into the back room. You browse the old releases and stop at Die Hard. This one you saw in theaters. John McClane is a badass. 
You think of Dustin, and his supposedly badass new friend. It's too bad you didn't meet today. Dustin has a good sense about people. If he says so, it's possible you and this friend really would get on. 
The bell rings again. You're slow to look up. The entrance is empty when you do. You keep reading about John McClane's adventures. 
"Have you been waiting long?"
You turn at the new voice. The video slips out of your hand and clatters onto the counter. 
Steve’s hair has grown since you last saw it. He looks different too, though he has yet to break out of his signature church boy polos. There's a smattering of stubble on his jaw. His arms are lean with muscle. He wears a matching work vest like Robin's, name tag printed Steve in blocky font. 
He looks at where you've dropped Die Hard and smiles. 
"This is a good one," he says. "John McClane is a total badass."
You blink.
"Did you want to rent that one?" he continues, meeting your eye. 
"No," you manage. 
"Okay, no problem. Just browsing?" 
He doesn't remember you. 
You stare and stare. Steve leans in, concerned. He's changed, but he hasn't. He's still handsome with his swoopy hair and big, dark eyes, but the Steve you knew wouldn't have been caught dead working at a video store.
And he doesn't remember you. 
"Are you okay?" he asks, sounding genuine.
You take a step back from the counter. The blood roars in your ears. Robin comes back in, Pretty in Pink in hand. She looks at you, then at Steve. 
"Got it!" she tells you. "Computer should work now."
"I have to go," you say. 
You don't look at Steve again, instead focusing on Robin. 
Her brows rise. 
"Oh. Is everything—"
"I forgot my wallet," you blurt. "I can't pay for the movie. Sorry."
"That's okay, we can just—"
You run. The bell chimes over her words. You keep running until you get to the bus stop, three blocks away. 
Only there do you stop to catch your breath. 
And then you cry. 
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February 1982
"What do you think about Marie?" 
You look up from your textbook. Steve is doodling in the margins of his notes. You gently prod his arm. He returns to reading but his leg starts to bounce under the table. 
"Marie Iverson?" you ask.
"Yeah." 
Steve glances at you. He pushes his hair back. It had taken him freshman year to get his bearings with all the gels and creams, but now, his hair is a point of pride, always perfectly coiffed. Seniors call him "The Hair" and high-five him in the hallway. You hate it. 
"I don't know. I don't know her that well."
"She's cute." 
"I guess so," you say. 
It's harder to get Steve to focus on homework these days. Last year, he happily made flashcards with you and even bought fancy gel pens to share for your notes. Now, he prefers to talk about girls or—
"I was thinking of asking her out."
The tip of your pencil breaks. You really ought to start using pens, but you don't like being unable to erase. 
"Shit, here. Take mine." 
Steve offers his still perfectly sharpened pencil. You stare at it. 
"Y/N?" 
"Yeah." You take the pencil. "Thanks."
"Sure. So what do you think?" 
"I don't know, Steve. I thought you talked about this stuff with Tommy."
"I would, it's just…" Steve shifts uncomfortably. "He can be rude about it sometimes. He doesn't even get why we're friends, y'know? Doesn't understand why I don't just date you."
Tommy is a moron, but you've said that since last year, and Steve's never listened before. 
"Some people don't get it," you say mildly, because you have an upcoming French test and there's no use in getting upset over Tommy Hagan right now. 
"But you do. And you know about this stuff better than me. Girls and all."
"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I know what girls are best for you to date, Steve. It's weird to talk about."
Steve deflates. 
"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Sorry."
You sigh and rub your temple. 
"I thought you knew all about that," you say, extending an olive branch. "Asking girls out and stuff."
"Well, I mean, I've kissed girls but I've never… you're, like, the only girl I really know."
Something like pride swells in your chest. Selfishly, you want to keep Steve. You don't want to help him if it means losing him. Oh, you're so greedy, aren't you? You watch Steve run off with Tommy and Carol and nameless seniors and seethe, because Steve was yours first. Steve is yours.
"Y/N?"
"Yeah." You give him back his pencil and fish for another one in your bag. "Did you ever think about writing how you feel?" 
"Writing?"
"Yeah, like a poem or a letter."
"I'm terrible at writing," Steve laments. "The letters get all jumbled and I never spell a damn thing right."
He'd told his mom once how letters melt into each other, how b's become d's. She'd taken him to get his eyes checked, and when the doctor said Steve was fine, Deborah Harrington had told her son to stop begging for attention. 
"Someone who really likes you won't care about spelling mistakes, Steve," you tell him. "As long as you write from the heart. Don't do that cheesy shit and quote Romeo and Juliet. They're young, impulsive, and they die at the end, and that's not romantic."
Steve laughs, nose scrunched. 
"What!" you demand. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, 's just—of course you'd have something to say about quoting Shakespeare."
"It's overdone," you say, crinkling your nose. "And girls would much rather read your own words." 
"So you think I should write Marie a letter?"
"If you really like her," you say. "Only write letters for girls you really like. Otherwise they lose their meaning."
Steve frowns. "I don't know if I should write her a letter, then."
Don't, you want to say. Don't write any of them letters.
You shuffle your papers into a stack. 
"Can we study now?" you ask.
"Oh, sure, yes. Sorry."
"You don't have to keep apologizing, Steve."
He shifts closer to you. His leg has stopped bouncing.
"Lemme take you out," he says. 
You nearly swallow your tongue. 
"Wh–what?"
"For ice cream," Steve clarifies. "Like we used to. Dairy Queen."
"Oh. Okay, sure. But after we study."
Steve beams. "I'll drive you."
Steve's dad had bought him the BMW as a birthday present this year—not that Richard Harrington actually knows when his own son's birthday is, considering the gift was three months early. Still, it's another point of pride for Steve and about all anybody talks about whenever his name comes up. Steve is the only person in your grade with a car. Junior girls hit him up for rides. You make yourself scarce when they do. 
You don't care. You liked Steve before the car. And the clothes. And the hair. 
Your throat feels tight. You want your best friend back. 
"Just us?" you check. 
You can't tell these days. Steve seems to hang out with everybody but you. You're shocked he'd even asked to study together. 
"Oh, sure," Steve says. "I just have to drop off Tommy and Carol first, okay?" 
You check your watch and close your book. 
"I have class," you lie. "I'll see you later." 
Steve catches your wrist. He looks at you and you're struck by how sweet his face is. It's not like you didn't understand why girls want him but it's Steve. Your Steve, who still sleeps with a nightlight and who framed a picture of a sports car he cut out from a magazine because he'd thought it would make him cooler (it didn't. You still tease him about it.) 
"Please," he says. "For helping me."
Your eyes slit. "I didn't help you to get stuff, Steve. I helped you because you're my friend."
Steve blinks like he's forgotten what it's like to be friends with someone just for the sake of being friends. 
"You're right," he agrees. "You're not like that. I'll tell Tommy and Carol to find another ride. It'll be just us. I promise."
You perk up at that. "Really?"
"Really. You can sit in the front with me and we'll play Bruce Springsteen, like we used to. Please?" 
"Okay, Steve." You ache. You’ve never been very good at telling him no. "I'll meet you in the parking lot."
And maybe… maybe your best friend is still in there after all.
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Now
You ask your shift manager if you can work at the snack bar today. It's in the back and you won't have to deal with any game hogs. 
"You didn't put enough syrup in my slushie."
You might have overshot the perks, though. 
Slushie Girl's hair is bleach blonde and hairsprayed to God. You want to tell her that all that hairspray doesn't keep friends. Or brain synapses. 
"I don't make the slushie," you say for the third time. "That's how it comes out of the machine."
She shoots you a mean look. 
"I'm complaining to the manager."
You paste on a smile. 
"You do that. Have a nice day."
She finally walks away, probably on the hunt for your manager, who's definitely smoking a joint outside to avoid this exact situation. 
Dustin comes around the corner and this time, he's with the rest of his party. You smile. 
"Hey, Y/N!" Dustin greets.
Lucas waves at you. Max and Mike are arguing and therefore are in their own world. And there's their newest addition, El, whose story you're still not clear on, as well as Will, quiet as always. 
You lean your elbows on the countertop. 
"What'll it be, gang?"
"Six nachos and six slushies, please. One blue raspberry, three cherry, and two Coke."
You fill up the slushies first. Dustin dances on his toes. 
"So did you pick up the movie?" he asks.
"Oh." You try to smile. "I went there but I couldn't. I forgot my money. Pretty dumb of me."
Dustin accepts this with no argument. 
"Well, you can go back. They'll hold it for a few days."
You're never setting foot in there again, but you don't tell Dustin that. 
He takes his slushie and immediately starts drinking. 
"Slow down, dude. You'll get a brain freeze," you say. 
"You sound like Steve," Dustin informs you. "Doesn't Y/N sound like Steve?" 
Lucas nods. 
"Yup. They're both parents."
You feel queasy. You focus on making the nachos, the cheese pouring out thick and gooey. 
"Did you meet Steve?" Dustin asks. "You probably know him from high school, but he's different now."
"Yes," you say quietly. "I knew him."
"I promise he's different. Even Mike likes him, and Mike hated his guts. Right, Mike?"
Mike pauses in his animated discussion with Max and looks at you. 
"What?"
"I'm telling Y/N about how Steve is cool now," Dustin explains. 
"Oh." Mike shrugs. "He's fine. Much better now that he's not dating my sister."
"He's not?" you ask. "But they were in love. I–I mean, that's what I heard, at least."
"She dumped his ass," El says, and it sounds a little ridiculous in her soft monotone. 
Max scoffs, taking her Coke slushie. 
"Did you live under a rock? It was a huge thing."
"Now Steve is lame," Mike says with a snort. 
"Getting dumped doesn't make somebody lame," you say with an old ferocity you'd thought had disappeared. 
"Okay, jeez." Mike holds up his hands. "Steve's alright. He's different, that's for sure."
"He's our paladin," Lucas says. "A protector." 
Dustin nods eagerly.
You blink. "He protects you guys?"
Max elbows Lucas. You have no idea what that's about. El steps forward and smiles softly. 
"Yes," she says. "He's our babysitter."
"Aren't you guys freshmen? I thought you were too old for babysitters."
"Oh no, Steve doesn't get paid for it or anything," says Mike. "He just does it 'cause he has nothing else to do."
"That's not true!" Dustin argues. Then he shrugs. "Well, it's a little true. But he does like us. He's a good guy. He cares about his friends."
You bite your tongue, not wanting to reply to that. 
"That's great, guys. The girl, Robin? She seems pretty cool too."
"That's Steve's best friend," says Dustin. "She's great."
"Oh." You wince. "Best friend?" 
Dustin huffs. “Yeah. They don’t date. He won’t say why."
"Platonic with a capital P," Max confirms. “It’s obviously because he’s in love with somebody else.”
“Not Nancy!” Lucas protests.
“There are other girls besides Nancy, Sinclair.”
You busy yourself with serving the last set of nachos. The kids pull out crumpled bills and coins in return. You count the money and stack it directly into the register; you know there won't be any change. 
When you turn, they're still there. Dustin has his signature grin on, eyes squinty. 
"Yeees," you drag out. "Can I help you?"
"We need a favor," Lucas says. "Please."
"Hmm." You lean over the counter. "What's up?"
"They're showing Prince of Darkness on Friday," Dustin explains. "But it's rated R."
"So just sneak in. Isn't that what you guys did at Starcourt?" you ask.
"We had an inside man then. They're a lot stricter at the new one," Lucas frowns. "They ask for IDs 'cause some mom complained after her kid snuck in to watch Risky Business." 
"And why can't your babysitter take you?"
You sneer at the thought. Steve spending his Friday nights herding a bunch of adolescent teens into a movie theater. There's a reason you consider Dustin affectionately delusional. 
"He has a stupid date," Dustin groans. "He's a serial dater, Y/N. It's terrible. He gets lucky once and totally ditches us."
Now that sounds like the Steve you knew. 
"I see. I don't really like horror stuff."
"You don't have to stay!" Dustin insists. "You can watch whatever you want after we’re in. I'll pay you back for the ticket."
“This would be so much easier if Steve still worked at Scoops,” Mike grumbles.
You blank for a moment, the image of Steve in a sailor’s hat and those ridiculous shorts whiting your brain.
“Um,” you begin. “You know I don’t have a fancy BMW to cart you guys around in, right?”
“It’s cool. We’ll get there,” Max says.
“So?” Dustin bounces on his toes. “Sooo?”
You sigh. It’d been nice of Dustin to get you the movie, even though you’d chickened out and ran. And it’s not like you have anything better to do.
“Okay,” you say. “I’ll get you guys in.”
Dustin pumps his fist. “Thanks, Y/N! You’re my favorite old person.”
You roll your eyes. “Funny. Any funnier, and I might rescind my help, Henderson.”
“Byeeee!”
They all disperse to the arcade. You wonder how on earth Steve got involved with them.
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March 1983
“Okay, but if you had to choose.”
“Pass. I would literally rather swallow pennies than kiss Principal Coleman’s bald-ass head, Steve.”
Steve takes a triumphant swig of beer. “So you’re saying you’ve got the hots for Benny the janitor.”
“No!” you insist through giggles. “I don’t. God, you’re gross. Can’t believe I’m being treated like this on your birthday.”
“Exactly! My birthday.”
He rolls onto his side in his deck chair and nearly faceplants on the cement. You reach out, reaction time delayed.
“Steve!” you yell. “Careful.”
“I am, I am,” he mumbles, and rights himself on the chair. “Jus’ wanna see you better.”
“I keep telling you you need glasses.”
“I do not,” he whines. “My vision’s ten outta ten. Could a guy who needs glasses do this?”
He crumples up a Twinkies wrapper and throws it towards the garbage. The wind picks up and sends the wrapped into the pool. 
“Shit,” he says.
You belly laugh in delight.
“Wait, wait, redo. Go fish it outta there.”
“Oh, as if. I’m not going in there. I told you you need glasses. Even Mother Nature agrees.”
"She does not. Mother Nature thinks I'm a doll."
You hum and close your eyes. Alcohol always makes you sleepy. 
The chair scrapes against the concrete. You hear a crinkle of a chip bag. Those are your only warning before you’re crushed by two hundred pounds of drunk boy. 
“Steve!” You wheeze, squirming as his hair tickles your face. “Get off!”
"’M sleepy,” he mumbles.
“Well, don't sleep on me, weirdo.”
“‘S cold.”
“You run, like, a hundred degrees, don’t lie.”
He lifts his head. “So you’re saying I’m hot?”
“I’m saying all that booze cooked your brain,” you reply sweetly.
“I’ve been wounded,” he moans and plops onto your shoulder.
“Ugh.” You resign to your fate and lean back. Steve’s not actually that heavy; even drunk, he has a lot of control over his weight and he’s situated himself so he isn’t crushing anything important. No, you squirm underneath him for a very different reason. 
“Steeeeve,” you whine. “You’re gonna squish me into a pancake.”
“Can’t believe no one else came.”
You still. Steve’s face remains buried in your shoulder. His body is beside yours, and he has an arm slung over your belly.
“I didn’t—didn’t want a party,” he continues. “I always throw parties. I thought I’d do somethin’ different. An’ none of them even wished me a happy birthday. ‘Cept you.”
You rest your hand on the back of his hair. It’s wind-blown and messy from the drinks, free of his heady hair gel. You’ve never loved it more.
“Did you tell them your birthday is today?” you ask gently, even though you know he did.
“Yeah,” he says. “Told all of ‘em. Guess they weren’t listening.”
“I listen.”
Steve looks up at you. His eyes are glassy.
“God, I miss you,” he says.
You feel the wall you’ve built this year crumble, just a little. 
“I’m right here, Steve.”
“I know but—been a jerk lately. I know I have. You’re my best friend, okay? Nothing’ll change that. I–I love you so much.”
Your breath hitches. Steve barrels on, not noticing.
“And I’ll be better. We’ll hang out more. Not–not here, drunk. But for real. We’ll go to the movies. Y’wanna see a movie?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I wanna see a movie.”
“‘Kay, what movie? Anything you want. We’ll get popcorn and Raisinets.”
“You hate Raisinets,” you choke through a watery laugh.
“I’d eat Raisinets anytime with you.”
You lay there, in the dark, the only sound being the pool filter.
“Let’s watch the new James Bond.”
“Hmm, okay. But you’ll have to say the name eventually.”
Your nose crinkles. “I am not calling it by its name.”
His laugh is warm in your neck. 
You don’t tell Steve to get up again. He snuggles into you, leg over yours. You fall asleep like that, curled underneath him.
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Now
“Wait.” Max stops. “Shouldn’t we have, like, a game plan?”
“Game plan?” El asks quietly.
“Yeah. Some of us aren’t so great at playing it cool.”
She stares at Lucas.
“I play it cool!” he squawks. “I am so cool!”
“Right.”
“Just let Y/N do the talking,” Will says. “She’s technically the adult so she should act like this is a conscious choice.”
You shrug. “Makes sense to me.”
Dustin beams. “This is gonna be great!”
“Or a total disaster,” Max says.
You go to the counter, the kids trailing behind like ducklings.
“Six tickets for Prince of Darkness, please,” you say. “And uh, one for Dirty Dancing.”
The attendant looks at you, then at the kids.
“Don’t you mean seven tickets for Prince of Darkness?” she asks. “It’s rated R.”
Shit. “Right, yes. Sorry. Seven tickets. And one for Dirty Dancing. We have another friend who’s late.”
“Uh-huh.” 
The attendant, whose bored expression you’ve recognized on your own face after long days in the arcade, hands you your tickets without any questioning. 
“I think we’re in the clear,” Lucas whispers when you enter the concession area. 
You wait for them to buy their snacks. Max persuades Lucas to let her mix M&Ms into their bucket of popcorn. He agrees and shuffles closer so they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder while they share. 
“Okay, last stretch,” Mike says, shoveling a frighteningly large handful of sour worms into his mouth. “We just have to get past the ticket guy.”
Said ticket guy is a kid who can’t be much older than you. You think you might’ve gone to school together, but you’ve made it a point to eviscerate everything about high school from your mind.
“Hey,” you say, trying to act cool. Maybe you’re the one Max should’ve been worried about, instead of Lucas. “Uh, here are our tickets.”
He takes the tickets, then looks behind you.
“Prince of Darkness is only for people seventeen and older,” he says.
“I’m an adult, so I’m with them,” you explain. “I’m, like, their guardian?”
“Yeah, uh—” He hands you your tickets. “No can do. There needs to be an adult for each person under seventeen.”
“Come on,” you cajole. “They’re high schoolers. It’s not like they’re gonna be scarred for life watching some zombies, or whatever.”
He shrugs. “Rules are rules.”
“She’s an adult!” Dustin argues.
“Look, if you’re gonna hold up the line, I’m gonna have to—”
“Yo, Gillespie! That you?”
Dustin turns and lights up. The seven of you part for Steve Harrington and his date, a pretty strawberry blonde you think you had biology with.
“Harrington, man, what’s up!” 
Ticket Prick gets up to slam Steve into a bear hug. You barely resist an eye roll.
“Shit, I haven’t seen you in a year! Where’ve you been all this time? Hey, did you hear about that shit with Munson?”
Steve flinches. It’s a tiny movement, indiscernible to the trained eye. But it’s there all the same.
“Gillespie, c’mon. Don’t bring the party down with that,” Steve says, all sweet charm. 
“Sorry, sorry. Daisy,” he greets the girl attached to Steve’s arm.
“Gil,” she replies with a giggle. “You smell like popcorn butter.”
America’s future taxpayers. Terrifying. 
“Are you gonna let us in or not?” Max interrupts, arms folded. 
You feel a burst of pride.
Gil shoots her a dirty glare and puffs up, ready to fight a fourteen year old. Steve cuts in smoothly.
“Gillespie, listen. I know her.” He points to you. You bristle. “I can personally vouch that she’s just trying to do right by these kids. They wanted to see Prince of Darkness, y’know? Get away from the parents.”
“It’s a sick film,” Gil agrees. “You seen it?”
No, of course Steve hadn’t seen it. He hates horror. 
“Planning on it,” Steve says, the ultimate image of playing it cool. “Look, you remember sneaking into the movies. Fast Times? Ring any bells?”
Max rolls her eyes. You’re inclined to do the same.
Gil laughs dopily, and nudges Steve. “Hell yeah, I do. That was a crazy night, Harrington.”
Steve smiles thinly. “Sure was. So whaddya say? For old times’ sake?”
Gil considers your little troupe. Then he shrugs.
“Why not. Manager’s not here anyway.”
He takes the tickets and tears them to stubs, then gives them back.
“Theater six. On your left. Enjoy.”
The kids stampede into the left theater wing. You hang back with your own ticket. 
“Appreciate it, man,” Steve says, all smiles. “Take care, alright?”
“Hey, you too, Harrington! We gotta catch up!”
Steve and Daisy go in. You expect them to walk right past you, and Daisy does, predictably. But Steve stops.
“I’ll catch up, okay?” he tells her. “Find us some good seats?”
She paws at him a little, then goes, sodas in hand. You stiffen as Steve walks and stops three feet away from you. 
“Hey,” he says. “Sorry about that. Gil’s an asshole.”
“I know. He yawned during my poetry reading sophomore year. And then you guys went to the movies together.”
Steve shrinks. “Your poems were great.”
You’re suddenly exhausted.
“What do you want, Steve?”
“I just… I wanted to see you. Say hi.”
“Okay.” You cross your arms. “Hi.”
“You forgot your movie,” he says. “The other day.”
“I didn’t want it that much.”
“Dustin said you looked everywhere for it.”
“Well, in the end, it didn’t really matter,” you say. “Not enough to stay.”
“Y/N—”
“I think your date’s waiting for you,” you interrupt. “Better get back to her. Wouldn’t want to taint your reputation.”
Steve makes a noise like he’s been wounded. You turn on your heel before you can think better of it. 
“Wait.” He catches your wrist. Steve’s grip is light, like you’re something precious to hold. You wrench your arm away. “Y/N, I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you ask. “For forgetting me? I didn’t expect you to remember, Steve.”
“I didn’t forget you,” he insists. “I could never forget you. I wasn’t—please, can I just explain?”
“I don’t need your explanations,” you snap. The hurt corrodes your tongue like acid. “I know what happened. We were both there. You left.”
Steve’s eyes are huge and dark. He looks like you just stabbed him in the heart, and that makes you feel worse. You’d thought telling him how much it hurts would put you back together, but all it did was break you more.
So you run. Again. 
You slam through a back exit and rip your ticket into a million pieces. The wind is cold and unforgiving. Your eyes sting. 
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You call out sick for two days in a row. You kind of expect to get fired, but then again, people have been leaving Hawkins and if you’re not here to serve the masses their slushies, who will be?
So, after lying in bed not thinking about movies and strawberry blonde girls and how sick you are of this town, you get up and put on your arcade vest.
Now it is two in the afternoon. You’d heard it was supposed to snow today.
Robin eyes the snack counter like it holds the next plague outbreak. You don't blame her; you make it a point to wash up to your elbows after work.
"Slushie?"
She looks at you like she’d forgotten you were there. "What?"
You point a thumb at the machine. "Are you here for a slushie?"
"Oh. No, sorry. Red dye makes me insane in the brain. Steve actually—"
Robin stops, grimaces. So he's told her. Probably everything, if the kids had been telling the truth. 
You're honestly surprised she's here. Unless it’s to, like, swirlie you in the vat of artificial cheese. 
"Are you here to drown me in nacho cheese?" you ask.
Robin's eyes go wide as dinner plates. "What? No!"
"Just checking." You lean against the counter. "What can I do for you, Robin?" 
Robin suddenly looks like she's never interacted with a human being before. You like her a lot. Steve probably does too. 
"I came to drop off your movie." She holds the tape over the counter like it's a pool of lava. 
"But I didn't pay for it." You shove your hand in your jean pocket; you only have a couple dollars on you. "I guess I can get you the money tom—"
"It's on the house. For a fellow Molly fan."
Robin wiggles the tape with two fingers. You take it and wait for a catch. There is none. 
"Thank you," you say. "You didn't have to do that."
"Actually, it wasn't me," she confesses. "I'm just the mailman."
You prepare to hand it back but Robin shakes her head. 
"He's not going to pop out of the slushie machine, okay? He's just trying to make it up to you."
"He doesn't need to make it up to me," you bite, except those aren’t the words you mean. "Why does he even care? We're not in high school anymore."
Robin smiles a sad smile. 
"I know," she says. "We’re not. I know he should've known to fix things earlier. He's received a lot of blows to the head, though, so he's still catching up."
The thought turns your stomach. More? More you weren’t there to protect him from?
"He doesn't owe me anything," you say and wave the tape again. "You can take it back and leave it for somebody else."
"Y/N, I know we don't know each other, like, at all. But it's important to me you know that Steve cares about you, because you’re important to him. And you knew him way before I did, and you probably know a lot of stuff I don't, and that's good because he has a friend like me, but he should also have a friend like you too, Y/N."
"I don't want to be his friend," you mumble. 
"Yeah," Robin says. "I figured. But I don't think that's a confession he should hear secondhand."
You look at her, stunned. She's such a clever girl. You hope she treats Steve well.
"If you two are—"
"We're not," she says, like this is a regular explanation she goes through. "Steve and I are friends. Steve has crashed and burned with every single date since his fall from regency. Steve is the best person I've ever met." 
"Yeah, I’ve heard. You and Dustin are his biggest fans."
Robin snorts. "Trust me, I'm not proud of it."
You shake your head. Your eyes feel hot. 
"This town is so shit," you say. 
"Yeah," Robin agrees. "It really fucking is. But I'm not asking you to give this town a second chance. Just him."
"Why are you trying so much?" you ask. "You don't even know me."
Robin shrugs. "No, but you're the one person Steve used to be friends with who's not an asshole, and I think us non-assholes need to band together."
"I can sometimes be an asshole."
"Me too. So are those little dweebs. How about calling ourselves the Semi-Assholes Club?" 
You laugh. "We'll get jackets."
"With partially drawn butts on the backs," Robin says with a giggle. 
You look at the tape in your hand. 
"Does Steve like John Hughes?" 
"He does. He's a total sap for those. He thinks he's in his own coming-of-age movie because he's delusional."
He sounds perfect. He sounds like the friend you loved. 
"I did want to watch this one," you say. 
"It won't hurt you to," Robin promises. 
You suppose not.
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December 1984
You don't believe the whispers. All week, the rumor mill spins tales of Billy Hargrove finally pushing the King off his throne. There's no way he'll show his face, a girl at the adjacent lunch table astutes. I sure as fuck wouldn't.
Steve Harrington is a loser. Steve Harrington got dumped for Jonathan Byers. Steve Harrington may as well be dead, and on and on. 
Every line gets you angrier. A boy who sits behind you in chemistry taps his pencil like he always does. Tap, tap, tap. 
Halfway through class, you snap at him to quit it. He does, but not without a tinge of embarrassment. You’re so angry this year. Angry at your loneliness, angry at the unfairness of said loneliness. You might’ve done this to yourself, and that fact only gets you angrier.
You see Nancy Wheeler in the hallways with Jonathan Byers, and the confirmation of that rumor should make you happy. It doesn't. 
A week later, most of the excitement has died down. Everybody’s moved onto the next big thing, which is to deduce who fucked in Vice Principal White's office. One look at V.P. White, and it had been decided that it can't have been White himself. 
You can't care less. Once upon a time you might’ve laughed about it with a friend, but you don't have any more of those, and high school is bullshit with or without them. So.
Steve walks in twenty five minutes into the period. Mrs. Kaplan gives him a downright beastly glare and demands to know where he had been. 
"I'm sorry," is all he says. "If you give me detention, I understand."
There are a few snickers that rub at an old hurt, one that had flared up whenever somebody dared to make fun of your best friend. It doesn't bother me, he'd said, and you'd known it was a lie. 
It bothers me, you’d replied, and Steve had hugged you tight.
Mrs. Kaplan seems more stunned Steve hadn't swaggered past her like a peacock escaped from the zoo and lets him go sit down without a fight. He takes the only empty desk, two rows across from you. You stare. You can't not. 
Half of his face looks like it was mashed in a garbage disposal. It's purple and a sickly yellow. His eye and lip are still swollen. You stare and stare. You feel queasy. 
Billy had done that. You're so angry. You think you might never get past this grief, this loss of a once permanent fixture in your life. 
No one wished Steve a happy birthday this year, you realize out of nowhere.
You stare and stare and stare until Steve looks right back. You're blindsided by thick guilt, like blinking through a milkshake. And then the familiar curl of anger returns because why the fuck should you feel guilty? You aren't the one who fucked everything up, who mascerated this good thing. Steve did this to himself. Steve deserves to walk the halls alone. It's Steve's fault. 
But when you look at him, at his raw wounds, at his bruised knuckles, you know that he already believes he deserves every punch Billy Hargrove gave him. 
You hate Steve Harrington. But you really wish you'd been there to drive him to the hospital. 
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Now (And Forever)
The tape sits buried in your drawer for three days. You don’t know what Family Video’s return policy is, but you hope you’re not racking up late fees. You doubt name dropping Dustin will work again.
It’s Saturday when you decide to watch Pretty in Pink. You remove the video from its sleeve. An envelope falls out.
The front has your name printed in squished, loopy script. You remember January at Steve’s house, a stack of thank-you cards courtesy of his mother awaiting the Harringtons’ sign-off. Steve’s hand would cramp and you’d take over while he made grilled cheese for the both of you. Love, The Harringtons, and there was no love in that house, but you think maybe Steve loved enough to make up for it. 
Hi, the letter begins. I hope you’re good. Robin told me you’re going to Hawkins State.
That’s fucking amazing. I’m so proud of you. Are you still writing poetry? I liked that one you wrote about the birds who shared a branch and kept each other warm. I still have it in my notebook in my room.
I’m sorry for the other night. I’m sorry for every night since freshman year, honestly. I’m kind of a dumbass, but you know that, so it doesn’t really excuse anything. I think I’ve actually lost brain cells since we drifted apart.
You crumple the corner, suddenly hot with anger. Who keeps telling him he’s dumb? You want names.
I didn’t forget you, you know. I got scared and I thought maybe I could ease into it, but then you recognized me and… well. I don’t blame you for running.
Anyway. I’m talking too much about myself, when there’s nothing to say. I’m really sorry about what I did, or, actually, what I didn’t do. Somebody told me I was living on autopilot, and that it wasn’t really living at all. I think it was you. 
I’m not living on autopilot anymore. I woke up. And I realized that you’re the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. I love Robin and the kids and this little family that has apparently invayd invaded your life too. Sorry about that. They never leave and they eat all your food. Good luck. 
But I miss you. I always have.
Shit happened these last few years that I’ll tell you about one day, if you want. I’d rather not, though, because you’ve always been the paranoiac (like that one? Robin said it’s an SAT word) of the two of us and I feel like this would just make you even more of one. But I will tell you, if you want to hear it. I want to tell you everything. I want you to tell me everything too. Like we used to.
I want you to tell me how college is going. Who the annoying jerks in your classes are so I can go beat them up (kidding). I want you to stop by to rent movies so I can lend them for free and you’ll yell at me about taking advantage of fre friendships. 
Fuck, I miss you. It’s always been there, bubbling below the surface. I never stopped missing you. I never stopped loving you. I’m sorry I didn’t write this sooner. I know you said writing is how we express things we can’t say. You were right. You always are. Can’t believe I forgot that. 
It’s okay if you don’t want to be friends. I mean, it hurts, but I respect it. I understand. Most days, I can’t believe people can bear to be around me. But then I hear your voice in my head, telling me that most people are shitheads and that I’m golden and. Well, I don’t know if I believe that, but you were right that most of the people I surrounded myself with were shitheads. Except you, of course. And then I went ahead and fucked that up.
I’ve been working on finding the non-shitheads of the world. I think I’m doing pretty well. And I wrote this because I realized that while I will probably end up buried in this fucking town, you’re going to do something incredible. And nothing incredible ever happens in Hawkins, so I figure you’ll be far away when you do it. 
I didn’t want to miss this chance to write things I never said. So here they are. And you can do whatever you want with them. You’ve always been the best of the two of us. I trust you.
You should watch Dirty Dancing. You’ll like it. I did. I’ll see it again if you want. I’ll watch anything with you.
Did you know there’s another Bond movie coming out in the summer? We could watch that one together too. If you wanted more time to decide.
Sincer
Lo
Your friend,
Steve
You don’t bother ejecting the tape. You run all the way to the bus stop, Steve’s letter in hand. 
You have to see him. No other thoughts register except that one. You have to know if Steve wrote these words because he can’t say them or because you won’t listen.
It isn’t too late when you get to Loch Nora. The neighborhood is dead, which is weird. Steve’s house looks frozen in time: his parents’ car isn’t in the driveway. You wonder if they’ve ever come back since you’ve been gone. You wouldn't be surprised if the answer is no.
There’s a tarp over the pool. The gate is locked with a chain. You can’t sneak in through the fence like you used to. Not that you would. You don’t think strangers can sneak through pool gates.
You knock on the door three times. And wait.
Steve’s car is in the driveway, a duller burgundy than when he first got it. There are a few scratches in the paint. No longer a prized possession. Maybe well-loved instead.
The door swings open. 
Steve says your name like a prayer. You swallow and steel your spine. 
“I got your letter,” you say.
“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. His hair is damp like he’s just showered. It curls around his ears. Waves of want hit you. 
“I don’t want to be friends,” you continue before he can speak. “I don’t—I can’t do that again.”
Steve’s mouth draws into the saddest frown you’ve ever seen.
“Okay,” he says softly. “Thank you for telling me.”
“No.” You shake your head. “No, that’s not—I don’t mean it like that.”
His brows knit. “What?”
“I…” You pull out the letter and wave it. “Did you mean it? Do you love me?”
“Yes,” Steve whispers. It’s like a shout in the quiet street. “I meant it.”
“Like a friend?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Will you love me like a friend forever?” you ask. 
“Always.” 
You squeeze your eyes shut.
“I love you as something more,” you blurt, watery. “I have for a long time.”
You hear the door shut. This is it: your heart on the line, all for nothing—
“Then I’ll love you as something more back,” Steve says. “I’ll love you any way you want me to.”
And he holds you the way you’d held him so many times. You inhale and wrap your arms around his neck. You’ve got an iron grip around the letter. Tears slip down your cheeks.
“I missed you,” you confess.
Steve nods against your shoulder.
“Yeah,” he says, and it sounds a little wet. “I missed you too.”
“You were wrong,” you say into his neck.
“Hmm?”
You pull back to look at Steve.
“Incredible things do happen in Hawkins.”
“Oh, yeah?” Steve smiles, cheeks blotchy. “Like what?”
“We found each other again.”
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localicecreambiter · 2 months ago
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demi god LU time
the law of hyperfixations says you must combine interests at every given chance
adding a cut here as to not clog feeds!! its a real long post
i wanna hear thoughts too! so dont be afraid to comment. these are my personal opinions and i wanna hear if anyone agrees or disagrees :D (apologies for all the tags btw)
edit to add the stupid doodle
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the gods all have favorites, and ironically none of them are their own kids (save for hades: he loves his kid. doesn't make him a good parent, but you know?)
In a more Zelda timeline abiding setting; Originally they weren't all at camp halfblood at the same time, but time shenanigans decided they were to be brought together
Imagine Chiron’s surprise when 7 of his dead campers waltz into camp (this happens EVERY SINGLE TIME they enter camp. Dionysus is completely unfazed, knowing the bs time shit the gods are dealing with atm)
By the time they enter camp in Wild’s Hyrule for the second time he kinda understands (Wind and Sky didnt have a Camp Halfblood, for the record, for obvious reasons)
Alternatively, its some form of modern au where they’re just from different parts of Hyrule (skyloft, downfall, ordonia, windfall peninsula, hyrule town (different from castle town), the list goes on) which would make a lot more sense for this kinda au (the world would’ve just had a LOT of calamities within the span of a few years, some of the heroes knowing about camp and others not so much)
(i think Legend, Wars, Time, Wind (post WW) and Four would’ve known about Camp Halfblood while the others were just kinda on their own until after their quests) meaning over half of them didn’t have prophecies and just went to deal with the issue themselves, possibly meaning on their journey they learned of camp
Ok well, all of them but Wars, who grew up at Camp Halfblood
All Zelda’s are children of Athena, save for Skyward Sword Zelda since she's the reincarnation of Hylia (yeah, im keeping the original Zelda goddesses! What of it?)
At some point fairly early on, a Zelda only had a son, who got together with Athena at some point and boom
Sky: child of Zeus 
self explanatory 
God of the skies? his name is literally Sky
not to mention how fucking powerful he is?
he was the "first" Link; Zeus was technically the first God, it makes sense (this is such a stupid reason)
The skies are his home, Zeus finding someone on Skyloft and “falling in love” with their love of the sky too results in this bad boy right here
The demise fight? Only a zeus kid could harbor lightning like that
A camp counselor in the modern setting (ik typically once you’re 18, you’re no longer a camper really, but shhhh)
Wind: child of Poseidon 
Don't roll your eyes, i've got a reason!!
the 4 wind gods throw a fit anytime he's sent on a quest (they all love him even if they won't admit it)
A world purely ocean and islands? Poseidon would have a fuckin ball
The Great Sea needed a hero, Wind was brought about more for necessity than out of the want to have a child (this leaves a hard disconnect between wind and the gods, knowing his dad didn’t really have him out of love for his mom but because the world needed to be saved)
The irony of Poseidon being the patron of pegasi and horses and Wind not knowing what a horse is will never not be a funny thought
Has more control over the wind than he does the sea (for now) 
he, like Legend, pointedly ignores that he's a demi-god, especially since he comes after the Hero of Time (kinda hard to live up to that, even outside of a demi-god au)
The ocean and winds are his mood ring: you upset him the wind gods are after you
In a modern setting, the same reason applies kinda; a quest under the sea would be virtually impossible for anyone but a child of Poseidon, and hell knows a cyclopes isnt gonna be sent (gotta love those prophecies) 
OR!! OR AND HEAR ME OUT
Wind isnt a demigod
The wind gods still adore him, but he doesn't have the hero’s spirit and i think that’d kinda translate to not being a demigod, yet still being the one who was destined to go on the quest because there just weren't any demigods to do it
Still not set on which id go with
Legend: child of Hades 
Ah yes, child of the big three goes on so many quests trope. Love to see it
he's Apollo's favorite favorite (Warriors is jealous as hell. Thats his dad! Wdym he likes Legend more????) 
Pointedly ignores the fact he's a demigod (at least, he definitely tries to)
Blessed by (and beefing with) so many gods from his quests
probably one of the few heroes who's spoken to their godly parent (trust me, it was out of obligation rather than free will)
Prefers helping out the more minor, underappreciated, and not as needy or bitchy gods (like Hestia, for example)
curses the Olympians constantly, they've learned to ignore him, hes their best questing kid
Sort of a general camp counselor since Hades doesn't really have kids (its technically his last year but hes been there the longest out of everyone)
Managed to block the oracle over iris message
After his trip to the dark world and lorule, the gods go haywire around him, much to his delight (because it means they leave him alone)
Hyrule: child of Hecate 
adopted by Hermes (much to the dismay of all the Hermes children)
I was on the line between Hecate, Apollo, and Hermes; Hyrule’s affinity for magic and the blood curse resulted in Hecate to win 
Very detached from the gods, the help he receives is never outright but more subtle blessings
The gods like to ignore Downfall after Legend died tbh (outside of modern, obviously)
Well, they still ignore Downfall as a city/country. 
Only learned of camp thanks to Legend, otherwise he wouldn’t have had a clue it existed
Wild: child of Athena 
Also adopted by Hermes 
One of the more chaotic children of Athena
The idea of Athena being his godly parent sourced from his resourcefulness and quick battle (or just general) strategies, along with his pre-calamity self being stoic and more on the critical side
Completely forgot he was a demigod and just let loose, Athena is more than slightly perturbed by him and yet so infatuated
Supervises archery at camp
Warriors: child of Apollo 
exemplifies almost 0 traits of his father other than his looks and his affinity for medicine (shit archer, shit musician, can't write poetry)
blessed by Athena during the war since he was struggling so much, she always has a soft spot for the heros since they fight to protect her daughters so hard (aka pity blessing) 
Actively beefing with Ares 
Aphrodite likes to keep an eye on him, mostly for entertainment (she woulda eaten the whole Cia debacle UP)
Very notorious in camp considering he was a war captain at the ripe age of 17; once learning of the whole Camp Jupiter has apartments and college for half bloods insisted and led a project at CHB to get something similar built (which is where he, Sky and Twilight stay after turning 18)
Twilight: child of Demeter
His love for ranch animals and caring for his farm lead me to this decision
Also the whole wolf thing, that also counts
Appalled by the fact Wind doesn't know what a horse is considering he's literally the son of Poseidon (jealous the kid can talk to Epona and he can't)
After his journey to the twilight, the gods kinda flicker between Greek and Roman around him so they tend to avoid him like Legend
blessed/cursed by Lupa, hence the wolf thing
Teaches foraging lessons at camp
Four: child of Hephaestus
He's the smithy, I couldn’t not say he's a Hephaestus kid
received a lot less help from the gods since he was one of the first 
started advocating that heros receive help from the divine after LU concludes so those after him have a fighting chance (not in the modern setting)
I havent played many of his games, but the kinstones sound like a thing Hephaestus would scatter across the earth as scrap from his creations
Not one of the fire wielders (the only one that can wield fire is Red when split, mostly because of the elemental bs in minish cap)
After drawing the Four Sword, Janus (despite being roman (i like to think the four sword would be a roman artifact, it just feels right)) was suddenly pretty interested and bestowed what wisdom he had for the demi-god
Vulcan, Neptune, Aeolus, and Ceres all came together to forge the elemental stones; the Minish were still the ones to bestow the sword to Hylian people
The gods tend to avoid him too, for the same reason they avoid Twilight and Legend (dark world shenanigans and the Four Sword)
He loves the damn forge at CHB, and was ecstatic seeing the one at Camp Jupiter
He was asked by Chiron if he would be interested in running a forge class for young demigods (be it his siblings or anyone interested) but sadly declined 
Has that air of responsibility to him, being a seasoned quester (and while his 3 doesn't stand to Legend’s 6, its still pretty sizable) hes looked up to by the younger campers
Time: child of Demeter Kronos? 
The Kokiri were so Demeter core dont even tell me they werent
I guess they’d kinda act like nymphs and dryads in a sense??
His abilities use to relate to his mother until the events of his first quest: the Ocarina of Time was designed to slowly corrupt the user, being a creation of Kronos’
However, it wasn’t really designed with a demigod in mind sooo…
Also self explanatory, the titan of time? Duh… huh?? what do you mean he was taken over?? What do you mean he was a child of Demeter?? No he wasnt lol that Neverrr happened
the reason he's the only “child” of a titan is mainly because of the fierce deity mask literally making him god-like, meaning he has a lot more power harbored in him sooo (the second he dawned that mask he discarded his old identity for that of a titan’s child, since it was also cursed object)
Don’t ask how he came to being Kronos’ kin, no one knows, not even he does (I do) (no, it does not imply a Hylian wandered into Tarturus and got out alive to have the baby)
Avoids interacting with the gods at all costs, he's weary of them as they are of him (even if he saved the world twice)
Extras :)
Ravio: child of Pluto 
blessed by Minerva for his natural quick witted nature and clever war strategies, if her own daughter can't succeed she might as well make sure ONE does
can tell if a rupee is real or not by glance alone
Sheerow scares the fuck out of the gods, which in turn means Ravio puts them on edge, a thing very few can achieve
the gods never gave him much thought until the events of albw, to which he suddenly gained like four pair of godly eyes on him
can and will plan one of the worlds most successful heists, refuses to participate 
also beefing with Ares (not Mars, Ares)
Based on my personal HC that Ravio’s some sort of artificer (be it replicating magic dungeon items or just flat out creating new ones) i think Vulcan has his eyes on him too
Hilda: child of Minerva 
by far the strangest child Minerva ever birthed
exemplifies the traits of a hero rather than a ruler
a little jealous her mother likes Ravio more than her
gods be damned, she's not going to let them neglect her kingdom anymore 
a force of fucking nature that single handedly forced a meeting with the gods and somehow forced them to agree to start restoring Lorule (she got the idea from Legend, who has done this multiple times for multiple different reasons)
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whatdoeseverybodywant · 10 months ago
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All Falls Down - Chapter 6
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I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
All OC Characters belong to me
Series Masterlist
Taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @arination99 @alyyaanna @m3lloww @gomussy @harmshake @empressdede @jeysbae @theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @raya-hunter01 @kawaiisadoglu @msbigredmachine @dietothemusic @2-muchsauce @tian-monique @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @wrestlingprincess80 @saintaquarius @bebesobrielo @venusesworld @babysyhsyh
If your name is in bold tumblr won't let me tag you.
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“Go ‘head baby, cum on my fingers.” 
“Hey, you alright?” Kiyana jumped as she was forced out of her daydream. She snapped her head over to Josh who was standing in the doorway of their ensuite bathroom. “You been spacing out all day, you good?” He stepped closer to her, worry written all over his face. 
Since the ‘club incident’ she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Joe and she felt like shit, because here she was mad and talking about divorcing her husband and she was no better than him. She had decided to keep what happened to herself. Even when Samara asked she kept quiet. 
She 100 percent did not mean for that to happen. Everything happened so fast, one minute she was drunk and dancing then next thing she knew she was getting fingered by her husband's cousin and she sobered up almost immediately. Kiyana had chalked it up to the fact that she and Joe were both drunk and that was that. They were drunk and clearly weren’t thinking straight.  She was drunk and if she was sober none of it would’ve happened. But, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. 
Her mind also kept going back to graduation night ever since Joe brought it up. And while yes, she and Joe did some things. She didn’t technically cheat on Josh- it was still wrong considering what happened between her and Joe took place 30 minutes after she broke up with Josh. But They were kids back then  and they both promised that neither one of them would ever bring it back up especially since she got back together with Josh the next day and not to mention the fact that Joe and Josh were family. 
“Key.” She jumped again and looked at Josh. Shit I spaced out again. She thought as she cleared her throat. 
“I’m fine. Are you ready?” She asked to which he nodded his head. “Okay, I'll meet you downstairs. He nodded again before hesitating as he took a step closer to her, bending down to place a kiss on her cheek but she moved back. Clearing her throat again, she turned back towards the mirror and finished doing her make-up. 
Josh had somehow secured them an emergency counseling session with the same counselor that tried to help his mom and dad before their divorce. The whole ride to Dr. Anderson’s office, Kiyana could feel Josh staring at her every so often and would try to place his hand on her thigh and she would fling his hand off of her. 
“Are you going to at least try and listen to what Dr. Anderson has to say?” He asked once he put the car in park and she inhaled a deep irritated breath. 
“I’m here aren’t I?” Was all she said before she exited the car, slamming the door behind her. 
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Dr. Anderson stared at the couple in front of him. Kiyana had scooted herself all the way down to the other end of the couch and had basically tucked her body into herself. Her body language was telling Dr. Anderson that she didn’t want to be there and she would not be open to anything he had to say. While Josh on the other hand had a semi-relaxed posture, he was nervously  tapping his fingers on his knees but he was open and he wanted to see a change. 
Dr. Anderson cleared his throat, getting the attention of the two of them. “Thank you for coming.” 
“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.” Josh said, wiping his hands on his pants. Dr. Anderson observed Kiyana roll her eyes. 
“Now, you told me a little bit over the phone.” He said, bringing his attention back over to Josh who nodded. “There was some infidelity?” Josh nodded again and Dr. Anderson hummed and wrote something down in his notebook. “From who?”  Josh cleared his throat and raised his hand tentatively. 
“I uh- I had a four month affair. But it’s over now and if I could I would go back and never give that woman the time of day.” 
Kiyana snorted and rolled her eyes. “So hearing that your husband just said that, how does that make you feel?” Kiyana shrugged. 
“I think he’s talking out his ass and I believe everything he’s going to say today will be a load of bullshit.” Dr. Anderson nodded again and wrote another note in his notebook. 
“Okay, so tell me how was your relationship before the cheating and were there any noticeable signs of the cheating?” Kiyana inhaled a deep breath and snuck a glance over at Josh who was already looking at her. How was their relationship?  
“It was normal I guess,” She shrugged. “I mean we were together since high school but I never thought that he would actually cheat on me, you know? We’ve had our problems in the past but it’s never led to anything like this.”  Josh felt like his heart was being ripped out his chest as he watched the tears trinkle out of her eyes. 
“Were there any noticeable signs of cheating?” Dr. Anderson asked again. 
“No,” Kiyana shook her head. “Everything remained the same. I had no reason to suspect that he was cheating.”
Josh sank lower in his seat as he listened to Kiyana tell Dr. Anderson how good their relationship used to be, the more he listened, the more he felt like complete shit. All he wanted was to forget about Shanté and move forward with his wife. Because if he was being completely honest,  He didn’t know how to live without Kiyana. So he hoped and prayed that this first session with Dr. Anderson would get them back on the right path. 
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Shanté stared at the house in front of her, she could actually see herself living there when Josh got rid of Kiyana and their kids. Nikkita had told her this was a bad idea but obviously she didn’t listen. She wasn’t let Josh go without a fight. He had blocked her on almost everything and this was the next step. She needed him to see that they belonged together and that she was the right one for him.  She made sure her make up was right before stepping out of the car and walking up to the front door and knocked. 
Kiyana had just left the kitsch after making her and Trin a drink so she could tell Trin all about the counseling session when there was a knock at her front door. She and Trin had stayed back at the house with Kairo while Jon and Josh took Kamari and Kaiden with them to go get food. 
“Sis, you expecting someone?” Trin asked as her and Kiyana both looked in the direction of the door with confused looks on their faces. Kiyanna shook her head and placed both of their drinks on the coffee table before going to open the door. 
“Hi, can I help you?” Kiyana asked with a friendly smile, but that smile quickly vanished as the women in front of her seemed irritated by her presence. 
Shanté rolled her eyes when Kiyana opened the door. “Yeah, is Josh here?” She asked, crossing her over her chest and Kiyana felt her heart drop into her stomach. She took a good look at the woman and immediately knew this was who her husband had an affair with. 
Shanté had a smirk on her face now. “Yeah, you know who I am don’t you?” She asked cockilly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She looked Kiyana up and down with a look of disgust on her face. This is what he had to come home to? No wonder he decided to cheat. Shanté thought. 
Kiyana closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself down. “He ain’t here.” She tried to close the door in her face but Shanté pushed it back open. “Girl, i’m warning you, get the fuck outta here.” 
Shanté pouted. “Is that anyway to talk to your kids' step-mom?” She cackled and Kiyana snapped, she landed a perfect right hook on Shanté’s jaw, knocking the other woman down to the ground. Trinity came running towards the door when she heard the commotion. She pulled Kiyana behind her and glared at Shanté. Before she could say anything Josh’s car pulled into the driveway. He rushed out of the car and over to Kiyana who pushed him away from her and stomped into the house. 
“Hi baby,” Shanté said as she pulled herself up off the ground. “You miss me?” 
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IM SORRY IF THIS SUCKS 😭
NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE BETTER I PROMISE 🤞🏽
FYI: Kamari is 6
Kaiden is 3
Kairo is 2 (almost 3) months.
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imagineredwood · 9 months ago
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7. Macarons 🍪
Summary: Manny likes you, has for a while, but he's gotten mixed signals from you and isn't sure if the feeling is mutual. That's ok though. Nothing a few laced cookies can't solve.
Pairing: Manny x female reader (did he have a last name? Can’t remember)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI Sexual content, they do not have sex, just grinding and touching, Dark!Manny DRUGGING - the reader is drugged without her consent with a 'truth serum' type drug in her gifted macarons to get her to tell him how she feels. The reader does like him and does want to be with him/be sexual with him, she's just been shy and didn't dare to be upfront; the drug helps it come out. So their interactions are technically consensual, but she has been drugged against her will/knowledge and is under the influence. Just want to make that clear for everyone. If it's not your cup of tea or triggers you or anything like that, please don't read it. I would never want anyone to be upset by/hurt/triggered by my work, but at the same time, we're also responsible for the content that we choose to consume. So if it doesn't sound like something you would like or enjoy reading, please don't read it. I won't take it personally if you sit this one out. Also please let me know what other tw I should tag it as if there are any you feel it should be under
Word count: 1.6K
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"Macarons??"
You beamed as you looked into the box, the selection of pastel treats looking delightful. They were expensive for their size, one of the main reasons you never really splurged on them. You'd had one or two here and there, but a box of 24? You had never spent that kind of money on a cookie. That didn't mean that you couldn't admire them though. You'd saved some aesthetic tiktoks of them, opting to one day spoil yourself with a beautiful box of them. You hadn't ever told Manny about your desire to have them, knowing that if you merely mentioned it, he would've splurged on the most beautiful and expensive ones he could find. He was just like that when it came to you. So you'd kept it to yourself, deciding that you would get yourself a small box for Valentine's Day, seeing as you didn't have a Valentine. 
But Manny had beat you to the punch. 
He grinned as he watched your eyes light up, happy that his gift had paid off. At first, a few months ago when he was trying to plan out what he would do for the special day, he wasn't sure if the treat was one you would be into. He wanted to make sure that whatever treat he got you for Valentine's Day, was one you would enjoy and preferably one you would remember.
When he saw the saved tiktoks, he was thankful that he'd had the idea to hack your phone a few weeks before. 
His intentions had been innocent enough, really. He just wanted to be able to know what you liked. He always got you gifts, eager to please. He had already decided he was going to put together a Valentine's Day basket for you, but he needed to make sure everything was perfect and to your liking. He needed you to see how much he cared about you and wanted you to be happy. Wanted you to be his. All of his previous gifts had warmed you and gotten you closer to him, but you still weren't his. His hope was that this gift would change that. 
So scrolling through your likes and saves, he'd found a handful of videos of the delicate treat and knew then that was his way into your heart. And right he had been. 
You smiled eyes raking over all of the colors, the sweet aroma wafting up to your nose in a swirl of vanilla and raspberry and cinnamon and-
"I'm glad you like it."
The Mayan looked proud as he eyed you, happy with his decision. Your mouth was practically watering at the smell and he knew you couldn't wait to try them. 
"Go 'head, mama. Let me know how they taste."
Your fingers hovered around the box, all of them looking so good you were having trouble picking which one you wanted. You settled on a baby pink one and picked it up, admiring it. 
"This one looks just like one I saw a video of." 
Manny nodded, knowing the exact tiktok you were speaking of. He didn't say that though. He knew that was the one you were going to have picked first. He knew you'd be excited and enthusiastic to dig into them.
That was why he had paid to have a little something slipped into the filling. 
He wasn't going to hurt you, of course not, he would never do that. He just wanted you soft and compliant. Honest. Needed to know if you felt the same way. Needed to know how you felt about him wanting you to be his and only his. So he'd gotten the idea from one of his brothers, 'truth serum cookies' he'd called it. The company made desserts for different purposes. Some had aphrodisiacs for couples to ramp up their sex life, others like the ones he had ordered had a drug known to make people relaxed and forthcoming, perfect for those who struggled with shyness when it came to dirty talk. 
In Manny's case, he just wanted you to be relaxed and open enough to tell the truth about if you wanted him as much as he wanted you. He needed to know if you would be his, and if you didn't want to be, then why. He'd brought it up to one of the Yuma brothers and he'd sold him on the idea. 'She won't even know. You can't taste it, no one would buy them if they tasted weird. They crush it up and mix it with some sugar, then add it to the cookie's filling. She won't have a clue. And you'll get to figure out whether she wants to have your crazy ass or not.' he had said.
He watched as you brought the macaron to your mouth and took a bite, catching a crumb in your hand as you licked the rest from your lips. Manny licked his own instinctively, eyes raking over your face as he watched you eat, almost in a trance. You smiled, covering your mouth as you chewed, not wanting to make more of a mess. 
"It's delicious." 
He smiled, then shook his head as you held it up to him for him to take a bite. 
"Not a fan of raspberry. Enjoy it." 
He lied cooly, and you bought it, taking another bite. You pushed the box towards him and motioned for him to take one as you both stood there at your kitchen counter. He obliged, not wanting you to suspect anything, and grabbed the cream-colored one with light brown filling, taking a bite. 
"Cinnamon." 
"Mmm." 
He held it out for you to take a bite of your own and you did, enjoying that one just as much as the other. You both stood there together, eating and chatting, a whole row missing before you knew it. You'd eaten most of them, and he wasn't worried about being affected. He didn't have anything to hide. You let out a yawn, and grabbed the lid, covering up the box with a laugh. 
"The crash after a sugar rush always sucks."
Manny nodded, his eyes on you as he watched your eyes grow a little heavier, your lids moving a little slower as you blinked. 
"Maybe we could go chill on the couch." 
You nodded and offered him a relaxed smile, that idea sounding wonderful. 
"Yeah, that sounds good." 
He followed you as you walked, hands itching to grab your hips as they swayed in front of him. You were a goddess in his eyes. A treasure that was meant to be his, but was always just out of his reach. But he was also a gentleman, despite his unorthodox methods of gaining the truth. So he kept his hands to himself, sitting down beside you on the couch. He angled his body towards you slightly like he always did, except this time it was because he was keeping an eye on you. 
Your eyes were soft, your face smooth and relaxed. He looked you over, not worried about you thinking he was weird or creepy for how long he stared at your face. He took in the angle of your nose, how your lashes fluttered on the tops of your cheeks. The softness of your lips. Your voice was gentle when it spoke, and his eyes were watching your lips as they parted, but it still caught him off guard. 
"Do you think I'm pretty, Manny?"
There it was. The serum already going into effect. His eyes drifted away from your lips and locked with yours.  
"I do, mama. I think you're gorgeous." 
You smiled softly. 
"I hoped you did." 
He inquired even though he knew exactly what you meant. 
"Hoped I did what?"
You shrugged, head tilted to the side as you gazed at him. 
"Hoped you found me pretty." 
He swallowed, his fingers wiggling as they screamed to touch you. 
"Well, I do. I think you're the prettiest little thing I've ever fuckin' seen." 
He watched as your throat moved, your swallow audible and pulling a smile from him. 
"What about you? You think I'm handsome?"
You didn't hesitate to nod. 
"I think you're very handsome. I think you're sexy." 
He adjusted himself in his seat, pants starting to feel a little snug. 
"That so?"
"Mhmm." 
You stared at him, fingers twiddling with the hem of your shirt. 
"I wanna sit in your lap. If that's ok." 
He melted, his nod sharp as he lifted the arm that was toward you, inviting you in. 
"C'mon then."
He felt his pulse quicken as you crawled over, a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you tossed your leg over his and then settled down in his lap, his eyes peering up at you. Your hands rested on his chest, fingers reaching up slightly, the tips tracing over the tattoo on his throat. 
"Wanted to sit like this for a while." 
The Mayan allowed his hands to finally drift over onto your hips, fingers digging in ever so slightly into the plush skin. 
"Wanted you to sit like this for a while too." 
Your giggle was breathless and it took everything in him not to start dragging your hips back and forth on him. 
"Anything else you been wanting?"
 You looked at him, fingers still stroking the ink. 
"Been wanting you to touch me."
Manny groaned, his hands gripping you tighter. 
"Oh yeah? Where?"
You shrugged and he shook his head, sucking his teeth. 
"Nah, none of that. Where you want my hands at, pretty girl?"
He slid his hands down further, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, gripping and pulling at your cheeks. 
"Here?"
You nodded, your hips rocking slightly. You pulled one hand away from his throat and instead gripped your own breast, your nipple hard under your palm already. 
"Maybe here too." 
He cursed quietly under his breath and pulled only one hand away to replace yours, squeezing at the soft swell of your breast, feeling like he was in heaven. 
"Yes ma'am." 
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General taglist
@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @gangstaliciou06
Mayans MC taglist
@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​  @wrcn9fvlcver​  @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @blessedboo​  @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​  @myakai13​
@cruzwalters​  @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​  @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia @librarian1002
149 notes · View notes
mastercrownmonday · 6 months ago
Note
You know how everyone shows Magolor, Taranza, and Susie as besties?
Well do you think the Master Crown, Dimensional Mirror, and Star Dream would also be besties?
Ok this ask reminded me of a shitpost I've been meaning to make so let's get that out of the way:
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You see, I always envisioned the Ultimate Evil Trio as Star Dream, Queen Sectonia, and Traitor Magolor. (I guess the Master Crown and Dimensional Mirror are technically along for the ride in this case?)
Anyways: you might be clairvoyant! I've been thinking A LOT about Star Dream in particular lately, including how it might feel about other Ancient Artifacts---like the Crown! (Note: okay the Star Dream brainrot is extremely obvious on my main account now but I swear that wasn't the case when I started writing this answer, ever so long ago. Lol)
I never considered a sentient Dimensional Mirror though... maybe someone else in the fandom has really juicy headcanons (feel free to share in the tags), but at the moment, I only have theories on its magic properties and relation to the magicians of the Mirror World. For example, I like to think that Simirror is from that world, and so they know a lot about the Dimensional Mirror.
As for the Master Crown and Star Dream: they would, theoretically, have a lot to commiserate about together, but I don't think they would actually get along. I won't reveal too much (since I'm still hoping to post some tangentially-related comics and stuffs in the future), but basically: their motivations and sympathies are completely different.
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If we are going to make a trio of Ancient Artifacts/eldritch abominations from the distant 10s, I would make it the Crown, Void Termina, and Star Dream. (this way we can preserve the holy domesticated trinity of cat, dog, and bird)
PS: Since you mentioned it, I'll give a small disclaimer... I actually prefer grouping Magolor, Taranza, and Susie as a bestie quartet with Marx. He may not be a 2010s girlie, but I think he balances the rest of them out and makes the dynamic more fun :)
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itonashi · 2 years ago
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May I request Chigiri Hyoma x reader, but the bllk boys and Chigiri are hanging outside of blue lock and the reader hugs Chigiri from behind while he's talking to someone; suprising chigiri of his s/o's sudden appearance? I LITERALLY CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF THIS MAN 🥰💍💍🙏
BOO!
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pairing: chigiri hyoma x fem!reader
warning: mentioned other chars, fluff, lowercase intended, manga spoilers
note: pls pls pls appear in the tag... im gonna cry if it doesn't appear. i hate mobile legends. memang tolol kau tahu tak (nonsense in malay). i love the anon who req me this.
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it's time!
for your divine, beautiful, majestic, heavenly, breath-taking, lovely, charming, marvelous, splendid, distinguished, monumental, glorious, astonishing, and pretty boyfriend to get out of his hell hole!!!
the blue lock program.
because of that stupid program you didn't get to even chat him or see him for months! now he's a celebrity after that soccer match that you didn't even managed to get a ticket for.
you want to see him so much instead of chatting with him on some apps. you hated how chigiri hyoma is now known to the world and some ppl liked him because of his beauty. that beauty should've been only for you.
fortunately, he is yours and you are his.
but he said that he only have two weeks break so that means the program is still not finish yet and that made you filled with the 5 stages of grief because that technically means that you won't be seeing him for months again! and who knows? he will also be offered with professional clubs out there.
you're glad that he didn't give up on soccer anymore and how he is really happy now.
with these two weeks break, you will make the most time to hang out with your boyfriend and make the most of it.
oh? is that your lovely boyfriend there? and if you're not mistaken — the people that he's talking to is the blue lock people.
'i want to surprise him. i mean.. his reactions will be so cute! after all, we haven't seen eachother for a long time.'
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"i think i will have a chances with many pretty girls this year."
"shut up, otoya."
"being known to the world feels nice."
"i wonder if i have a fanbase..."
"isagi! look at the comments about you."
"people really like nagi, huh."
"why are they so shocked that reo is playing soccer..."
the atmosphere was lively as everyone was talking about different things. some were talking about their popularity, soccer, the u-20 match, school and friends.
what was irritating me is that aryu keep asking me about what i use for my hair. yeah yeah, i know my hair is silky but only some people can touch it. if i don't want him to bother me with his 'glam' things. i just need to straight up tell him about the haircare i use.
"oh really? that's the one you use... hmm, what a shame. it doesn't fit my glam hair."
"ok, aryu..."
just stop talking to me about that, it's boring! damn it. "chigiri! look at people commenting about your beauty!" bachira showed me the multiple comments about my beauty and how they wish they know me earlier... blah blah blah. "haha, it's amazing how chigiri got people to like because of his beauty." isagi said.
"i bet his fanbase is full of girls."
is it? i don't really remember...
"i don't think so?"
"yeah, right.
i couldn't careless about the fanbase anyway. i already have my special someone who never gave up on me. the one who was always there with me through thick and thin. she never left me when i was injured. it was a shame she didn't managed to see the match in front of her eyes.
if she was there, i would've hug her tight even if there was my mother and sister there...
it's been a long time since i see her.
i was conversing with nagi and telling him some information about soccer. when suddenly i felt a hand wrapped around my waist from behind and a beaming girl's voice was heard.
"boo!"
'eh?'
everyone stop talking and look at the uninvited guest that just arrived. 'wooo' and 'oohh' could be heard from them. nagi look at the person who interrupt chigiri from talking and the person unwrapped their hands from chigiri's waist.
"[name]!?"
"oh, you're surprised to see me." you chuckle at the sight of him.
you wave at all the people there and they wave back with welcome but they're definitely questioning who you are from the sudden appearance. otoya did the honor of asking not before asking if you're single.
"im taken by the oh so lovely princess chigiri hyoma."
"oh."
"oi, don't call me that."
well, at least no one's here is beautiful like your boyfriend! this goes unnoticed by you but when otoya asked you that question. he almost tried to gouge out otoya's eyes. you didn't notice yukimiya was there until he spoke up.
"[name], you are dating chigiri?"
"ah, since when are you here... yuki?"
"you two knew each other?"
"he's my co-worker in the model agency but don't worry i never work with him, hyoma."
chigiri let out a sigh of relief at that statement. sure, yukimiya was handsome. and he love how you are loyal to him in the end. they time passed with you being introduced to the boys and come of them praised you for being a beauty and question you is it hard being a model and all that.
you get to know some of them better and it did help with yukimiya being there.
"i think it's time we should go back home." isagi said. the time was almost 5:00 p.m and they all agreed to it — saying goodbyes to one another, you set out walking back home with chigiri.
"you really surprised me back there."
"your reaction was worth it. hehe."
typical [name]. a little prankster ever since middle school. "here, do you want my hand?" chigiri offered you his hand for you to wrapped your hands around it and you did just that. you lean your head on his shoulders while walking to the train station. talking along the way about the day and your opinion on the boys.
"you did great on the match, hyoma. you don't have to think about it that much when you were out half time. i have been watching you that whole match even if i wasn't there. you're my favorite player out there."
it was out of the blue when you said that but it was comforting to him. you are his biggest supporter and he will never let go of that fact. the things you said to comfort him. you always know what his feelings are at the moment.
"thank you, [name]."
you chuckle at his flustered voice.
"that's my duty as your biggest supporter."
you two arrived at the train station and wait for your train to come and board it. it is fortunately empty. you love some quiet times with chigiri on the train.
you lean your head on chigiri's shoulder and close your eyes while holding his hand on the train and hum a melody. "[name], what do you think of me?" he said with a slight nervous. hoping at what you said about him is all positive.
"if im being brutally honest... after you were injured, you care too much about what those people said about your injuries. especially those wanima twins. i hate them. you have me on your back — i will defend you from those types of people but im happy that you're not giving up on soccer. you are a hardworking guy. you are slightly moody though..."
"that's too honest."
"i did said i was brutally honest."
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boolger · 6 months ago
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The werewolves of Stonemill ☆2☆ COD
[Chapter 1] ☆ [chapter 2]
MDNI ☆ MDNI☆ MDNI ☆ MDNI ☆ MDNI☆ MDNI ☆ MDNI
(These first two chapters aren't too dark, so they will be posted here. The rest of the fic will only be updated on A03)((unless I decide something else))
☆ Fem!reader x Poly!TF141☆ explicit ☆ wip ☆ 2/12 ☆ 2.7k words.
☆summary: You had been living your best life in Stonemill for a little over half a decade by now. A lone shewolf living in the town and working at the local bar, surrounded by a lush nature to roam through at night, a perfect piece of Paradise in Montana. A place you DO'NT want to share with any other werewolves. So, when a group of men turns up, buying a big house and stinking of alpha werewolves, you're territory is threatened - and these men doesn't seem to get it into their thick heads, that they need to leave. In fact, the assholes become rather interested in you, trying to get you to join their pack. You just want them to leave, one way or another - but it seems like they won't take no for an answer.
☆tags: Dead dove don't eat, werewolves, mention of graphic violence, dark!141, poly!141, afab!reader, omegaverse, dub-con, non-con, werewolf AU, foursomes, fivesomes, heat, scenting, hunting, killing animals, chubby reader, forced bonding, kidnapping, non-con touching, non-con drug use.
(These first two chapters aren't too dark, so they will be posted here. The rest of the fic will only be updated on A03)
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
“Fae!” 
Luna barely made it inside the bar before she was yelling your name, making you jump at the sight of your friend, almost spilling the beer, worried for just a second - until you saw her grin. Oh, that kind of grin meant she had news, or well, gossip to be more exact.
You finished filling up the glass for one of the regulars, smiling at the older gentleman who went back to watch some sort of sport show at the small television in the corner with the others. 
“Faefaefae-” Luna didn’t even stop, almost crawling over the desk, as you gave her shoulder a gentle tap.
“Calm down,” you said, before turning around and getting her a bottle of sparkling water as you knew she preferred, “tell me then, what is so important that you’re screaming my name?”
Technically it was just your nickname, but those tended to stick in this town. Not that you minded. First halloween in Stonemill, where you dressed up as a fairy and your fate was sealed. 
“Somebody bought the Johnson family house,” her voice was in a dramatic whisper, eyes wide, “full price even.”
That did make you pause and blink. The Johnson family house was at the edge of the town and had, in fact, been owned by said family for generations - until the last one, who ended up being the only family member left, elderly and without kids of her own. Miss Johnson had tried selling the house for years, but Stonemill wasn’t well known, nor was a lot of people interested in buying a giant house that needed well, a lot of love. In the time you had lived there, Miss Johnson had lowered the price three times.
“Full original price?”
Luna nodded, like an excited pup.
“- And Miss Johnson?”
“Over the moon! She got enough money to get that lil two bedroom apartment near the Franks and Hales, and there won’t be any stairs there and enough space for her to use her walker too.”
You felt yourself smile. You weren’t close with Miss Johnson in any way, but it was hard not to know each other at least vaguely in a town like this. She was a big part of the elderly community but after falling about a decade ago, she had struggled with chairs - moving closer to the other elders would be good for her. 
“That’s good, bless her heart,” you answered, “I’m really happy - do you know who bought it?”
“Yes! well, no I don't but–”
“- but you heard gossip?”
“Excuse you,” Luna touched her chest with a mocking, horrified expression, her red curls almost bouncing “I am a good christian woman, I never gossip.” You rolled your eyes as you picked up a glass, beginning to clean it.
“Tell me then, oh great Christian woman, what didn’t you hear then?”
“Well, Miss Johnson said that it was a lot of handsome strange men,” the words made you frown but Luna merely waved her hand at you, “yeah, I was confused too, but I talked to the couple that lives nearby and the guy said that it’s a group of four men, all veterans, apparently used to be a squad.”
“That doesn’t make them weird–”
“They’re British, Fae.”
“... Ah. I see Miss Johnson’s point.”
“Anyways - neighbor said he is pretty sure some of them is gay, but his wife said it probably wasn’t all of them and that we shouldn’t judge, but that they all seemed very polite and nice, but that they probably wanted to come here to retire, ya’ know?”
“Luna,” you took a deep breath, having to stop yourself from pinching the bridge of your nose, “how do you even know all of this?”
“Mailman - and the butcher.”
“Hah. Of course.” you wanted to roll your eyes at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.
“BUT! you know what this means, Fae?” She almost lit up again and you raised an eyebrow, putting the glass away. 
“That we’re officially 154 town folks now?”
“Yes! SO! New people to date!” Luna sounded incredibly proud of herself.
“I - Luna you’re a lesbian,” you pointed out, your friend just rolling her eyes, grin not faltering for a moment, “It’s not for me, you idiot! For you!”
You wanted to deny that the thought didn’t catch your interest. Your cheeks felt warm and though you let out a huff, trying to not seem bothered, both you and Luna knew it was a lie. One of the regulars, further down the bar giggled at the two of you and you sent him a stern look.
Why did they care about your dating life? It bothered you. 
Looking back at Luna, her head resting in her hands, freckles standing in a stark contrast to her sunburnt skin, her green eyes shining in the unnatural light of the bar.
“No.”
“Ya’ haven’t even seen ‘em!” Arguing with Luna, on a night like this, where she was full of energy, had been out in her garden half the day without enough sunscreen, was almost impossible; after several years of knowing her, you knew that. Yet, here you were.
“Neither have you, dipshit.” A part of you wished that there would appear more thirsty bar goers, just so you wouldn’t have to defend your singleness. Finding a partner that wasn’t a wolf and wouldn’t ask too many questions was tough to say the least. At the same time, finding a partner who was a wolf, meant letting another wolf, a stranger, into your territory. The urge to gag overwhelmed you for a moment.
“But-”
“No - now, do ya’ wanna talk about something other than planning my dating life?”
The ginger pouted.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Hours passed, you returned home from your shift at the bar, taking the usual walk home, smelling slightly of beer and cigarettes as always. It was like a rhythm that had settled in your body after living here half a decade.
Cars passed, lights illuminating your body for mere seconds, a person or two greeting you as you passed them, wishing you a good night. Stonemill was considered a rather safe place. There was the occasional bar brawl, but they were often nice enough to take it outside and figure it out on their own. 
Whenever you walked home on nights like these, bathed in the last colors of the sunset, you liked to imagine you were in a music video, like the ones you grew up watching repeatedly on youtube.
The thoughts of the newcomers had drowned in your mind, by another local drama, then by a heartbroken lady who came in not too long after Luna had annoyed you about being single.
No, you just enjoyed the air, much nicer than the big city air you had grown up with. 
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
It was two days later when you stepped out of your door, to go get groceries, that the scent in the air made you physically gag - gripping the door frame, to stop yourself from falling over. 
Wolves.
There were fucking wolves in the area. Strangers, in your fucking territory. 
How dare they?? For a non-human, it was clear that this area was yours - you made sure of that, making sure it stank of your scent. You rubbed your muzzle against house corners, against trees, hell you pissed several places on the regular, too. 
You had to close your eyes, breathing through your mouth for a couple of seconds, building up your courage to take another sniff. You needed to know who the hell this was, how many, whether they were alphas, betas or omegas like you.
You took a deep breath, this time with your nose, wrinkling it at the scent. It stank of alphas, definitely more than one, if you had to guess by the mixed scents.
Right. You wetted your teeth with your tongue, the urge to let your wolf form free overwhelming for a second. To find the intruders, as quickly as possible, attack them, show them that this place wasn't open for them. Groceries afterwards.
Hopefully it was just a pack passing by, though they had definitely been in the area for a couple of hours, if the potent scent was anything to go by.
Following your nose wasn’t quite like following the maps app on your phone. It forced you to use an instinct you mostly used when hunting. It was like the world  around you didn't matter, though you tried not to look too weird as you sniffed your way towards the unknown goal. Smiling and greeting as familiar faces passed you, either on foot or in their cars.
The house at the edge of the town was a dull green color, worn by the weather by the years, begging to be fixed - but it needed more than just a new paint job for the house to look nice again. It was a fixer upper, as Luna had described it once. With the stream nearby and the forest curling into the backyard, it was a big and beautiful house, where a big family could live. Usually you wouldn’t even be hesitant to get close, because Miss Johnson would always be sitting in the window, watching the street - waving at you with her boney fingers and big grin, her little poodle always next to her.
No more.
The scent was overwhelming, even as you stood around 20 metres away. A big truck was in the driveway, getting unloaded by several big men. They were chatting among themselves and you didn’t need to be a genius, to know that these men were the ones mentioned by Luna. British veterans. 
Hiding behind a tree wasn't your proudest moment, but you needed to be able to look at them in peace, just for a bit.
Tall, all four of them, clearly strong as they easily carried the bigger furniture pieces and moving boxes. Some of the neighbors were helping, chatting. One of the loudest of them wasn’t even British, if the Scottish accent was anything to go by as he chattered away. He wore a knee-brace, blue shorts and black t-shirt, hair in a fucking mohawk. A big grin as he argued to another one of them that it was his knee, not his arms that were broken, as he took another box.
The one who looked worried - or well, his upper half of his face looked worried - was wearing a black facemask, short clipped dark blonde hair, scars littered all over his body and face. A pair of pants and long sleeve shirt, despite the warmth. You couldn’t hear what he said exactly, drowned out by all the other voices and noise from their moving.
A black man appeared, wearing a cap with the british flag - and the prettiest face you had seen for a long time. Smiling politely as their neighbor asked about something, wearing a gray t-shirt that was a tad too tight on his arms and a pair of long shorts. You already knew all the housewives and older ladies were going to try to marry off their daughters to him.
Then, finally, the last stranger appeared. 
He wore a boonie hat of all things, t-shirt too but an open flannel over it that was folded up to his elbows, exposing his tattooed arms. He was big too, but looked much older - mostly due to the beard that looked like it had stepped out from a history book.
The wind had been hitting your face, letting their scents come to your hiding spot. Alpha. All fucking alpha, potent with their wolf scent, which meant they had probably changed yesterday. 
The urge to create a scene, to snarl at them, humans be damned and get them off your territory was overwhelming.
At once, the wind changed. Before you realized, it was too late, the wind curling along your short hair.
The man with the beard was the first one to quickly turn his head, your gazes instantly meeting as he sniffed the air. Fuck. As if on cue, the three others froze, their faces instantly turning towards you too, but you were stuck in some sort of staring contest with the first man.
The moment he grinned, like he knew something you didn’t, you slipped away into the slim alleyways of the two houses near you, escaping to the back of the enclosed gardens, away from the gazes of the four alpha wolves. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to fight you did - but it wasn’t the right time.
You barely remembered what you bought in the grocery store - bringing home the oddest mixture of things that you didn’t care about either. You barely ate, just sat around your house… waiting.
Watching the sun going lower and lower on its travel across the sky.
It was dark when your wolf had you get up, howling and snarling in your mind, begging you to let her come out, so that you could go to the house and scare the alphas off.
But you didn’t. Reason with them, you told yourself, try communicating before going directly to violence… Besides, the more logical part of you feared not winning the fight. Your wolf didn’t particularly like the idea of communicating.
Pulling on your boots, your thick jacket since it was cold and you weren’t - hopefully - going to shift, you needed to keep your warmth. A dark knitted beanie pulled down to your ears, a scarf and you were off. You didn’t look scary, you knew that. You were smaller than them, chubby and had short hair, but according to Luna, a mean stare. Your wolf form was more dangerous with her teeth, but alas.
You didn’t go through the town this time, foregoing the usual streets, in the hopes of not catching unwanted attention. Instead you crossed through the forest, the trip a little longer, but the scents familiar and shadows easier to hide in.
The closer you got to the Johnson Family house, that wasn’t the Johnson Family house anymore, the more their scent began to return, making you wrinkle your nose - and this time a small growl left you.
Minutes passed as you calmly walked in between the trees, knowing the place like the back of your hand. Maybe you ran your bare fingers along a couple of trees, to leave a little more scent behind, who knew.
It took a little while, time almost slowing down the closer you got. As you got closer, you began to mind your sounds, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was easier in your wolf form, but you made due, making it to the stream in their backyard - you didn’t cross it, keeping it between you, since it would give you a good head start, in case it was needed.
You stood there for a moment, watching the usual dark windows, lit up, picking up the vague sound of laughter and moving. For a moment, just a short moment, you imagined what it would be like to have your own pack. To have somebody to rely on, someone to spend your life with, to run free with, letting your wolves free and enjoying nature. The next moment, you wanted to hit yourself for even thinking about it.
You let out a little howl, giving away your position, letting them know you were near. Everything stopped within the house. Only because of your non-human genes, you were able to hear rough talking, though you couldn’t pick out the words. You waited. A few moments later, the backdoor opened and you braced yourself, ready to turn and run for your life in case it was wolves that barged out.
Instead it was the man with the beard, hat forgotten in the house, bare feet and a hurriedly put on leather jacket. His eyes ran over the garden, before it landed on you.
The stench from the house of male alphas hit you like a brick wall, but you stood quietly, waiting, even as the anger grew inside of you with every second that passed.
The man turned towards you, having the audacity to grin at you as he stepped down from the wooden back porch, down towards the stream.
God you wanted to rip his throat out.
[prev]
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ittyybittybaker · 1 year ago
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“neil is living in andrew’s walls” this is going to live in my brain forever now, much like neil in andrew’s walls,
listen i wrote those tags when i was half asleep and i thought that would be it but i am, in fact, still thinking about it !!!! i picture it like this
nicky and the twins live together in the columbia house (kevin technically doesn't live there but he's at their place like 5 nights a week so he might as well at this point)
the columbia house is OLD, like over 100 years so there's all sorts of weird crawl spaces and an attic that no one ever goes into
neil's on the run, jumps into an open window, and finds their crawl space
maybe he's injured and needs a place to lie low for a while
he heals, but their house is reasonably safe and he can steal food from their kitchen when no one's home and he's made a kind of comfy nest in the attic
his favorite spot tho is the crawl space behind andrew's room because nicky and aaron are too loud (nicky with talking to erik and aaron with katelyn/video games probably). andrew just listens to music and like. reads or something
as he heals, neil gets braver and starts to go out into the house more and more. maybe he cleans up the kitchen every now and then or he folds the towels they leave in the dryer as a thank you for their unknowing hospitality
(really he's just bored from being cooped up for so long, even if their house is the nicest place he's stayed in a long while.)
the cousins start to notice weird things are happening
nicky thinks the house is haunted
aaron thinks they're all just being forgetful about what they leave around the house
kevin thinks they need to check the carbon monoxide detector (he saw a documentary about it once and won't stop talking about it)
but andrew doesn't believe in the supernatural, and he also doesn't think it's a mass hallucination
he spends the most time at home, and he swears he's heard a muffle laugh or too when he makes fun of kevin
and what ghost changes the channel to espn
he swears he sees someone with striking blue eyes in the kitchen one night around 3am when he's getting a glass of water but when he turns on the light there's no one there and the doors are locked from the inside
kevin's not the only one who's seen a documentary, and andrew's just watched one about a man living in someone's walls
he mentions his theory one day at breakfast but everyone just thinks he's making fun of them, so he makes a plan to prove himself right
he researches into the history of the house and find the blueprints in some archival records, and sees the weird spaces in the walls (at the library of course, if there was someone living in his walls he wouldn't risk them seeing his investigating)
neil thought he was being careful, but he was getting comfortable there and he forgot to clean up his attic nest one day. he snuck out to grab some much needed supplies from the store and also to stretch his legs
this just so happens to be the day andrew goes investigating, and finds neil's hideaway
he's there waiting for neil when he returns
somehow neil convinces andrew to let him stay by saying "you've already taken in one stray after all (aka kevin) so why not another?"
andrew has to admit, he's got a point. and he really is very pretty
so andrew lets neil hideout in his room instead of in the crawl space behind the walls
andrew starts spending a lot more time in his room. the others hear strange noises and shuffling from behind the door, even when andrew isn't home
nicky and aaron think he's adopted a pet without telling them
(they're only half wrong)
yadda yadda andriel do their thing, they build trust by sharing secrets and truths and kisses, etc
andrew decides that neil is a permanent addition to his life, and he won't ever have to hide away again
one day nicky and aaron come home and andrew's cuddling on the couch with neil
"andrew, who is this"
"this is neil."
"cool ... where did he come from"
"he was living in the walls."
"... i'm sorry, what?"
"i was right. you both owe me $20"
"...i'm sorry, WHAT?"
"ssshhh, can you keep it down? he just fell asleep."
"Andrew. what the actual FUCK-"
unfortunately, andrew is no longer paying attention. he's much too busy playing with neil's hair as he dozes
and they all lived happily ever after and no body ever lived in the walls ever again
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defender-of-jouvente · 3 months ago
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HEY!!!!
Apparently this is what we're doing now? Making blogs? Or something. And I don't wanna be left out! So here I am!!!
I'm Isabeau (he/him), ex-defender from Jouvente, currently traveling with the Saviors of Vaugarde. Nice to meet you!
(Could you call this an Isablog....? Hehehe.)
Act Directory
Profile
{Rules/Info Below Cut}
hey! this blog is run by an anonymous user who shall, from here on out, be dubbed "mundie". it uses ze/they/he pronouns, and will occasionally use it/its pronouns for itself. it is a hobbyist roleplayer who tends to go overboard with things, and also has a degree in the arts i guess.
mun is an adult- indeterminate amount of years rp experience yadda yadda yadda. lets get to the meat of things.
this is an isabeau rp blog! while it's still in the early stages, it will have full game spoilers- not to mention the mun will talk ooc with the general regard that it's followers have, in fact, completed the game. please tread with caution if you haven't finished it yet!
(also technically an au)
majority of assets (as well as the game itself) used on this blog are directly from isat and thus made by insertdisc5 unless otherwise stated. things like sprites and portraits may be edited as i see fit.
instances of textboxes are put together in the ISAT Dialogue Maker.
blog tries to remain as accessible as possible, and all images will include ids in alt text (unless I forget). distorted and colored text will have a translation located in the tags. let me know what i can do to make this blog more accessible for you!
Anon: Off. Learn to respect my friends’ time and energy or die by my sword.
Magic!Anon: Currently not allowed, several stashed in inbox.
Interactions: Allowed and welcome! I may not get to every one, for a rainbow variety of reasons I won't get into. I will simply do my best! (Note: You don't have to be in the "group" listed below to interact! Come n hang!)
Plot: Currently in Act 1
Main Group: @a-traveling-star (King), @housemaiden-of-change (Noah), @studies-of-nothing (Nin), @snacksleader (Bonnie), and @loopadoop - check them out to get more context on the main story!
Rules:
No sexual content. Try to keep it PG-13 in that regard. Everything else follows the general standards of the actual game-- things may get heavy, so please take care!
No harassment. I feel like this won't exactly discourage any potential attempts, but its good to set boundaries. If I deem your ask legitimately hurtful I'm just gonna delete/ignore it. This includes transphobia, racism, xenophobia, etc etc.
This blog, as well as it's companion blogs, moves at its own pace. This is largely improv with some minimal planning for structure- we don't have every little thing planned, and we are pretty unfamiliar with each other and still adjusting, so scheduling may be messy. Please don't rush us! This performance is just as much for us as it is for you.
Try to stay on topic! Goofs are welcome, but try not to derail during plot/story heavy moments. Asks may be held in "stasis" until they are relevant if they don't match up with the current goings on.
Spoilers and potentially triggering content will be tagged as such. If you have something you need tagged, shoot me an ask and I'll do my best to cover it.
Joke asks are fine as long as you behave. Me n Isabeau both have thick skin, but try not to push it. I'm not afraid to put my foot down if you make me uncomfortable.
You can talk to the mod/mun, but I may not always respond. If something is surrounded by {} <- these brackets, that's probably me speaking. Remember to address me if you want to actually, like, talk to me. (I often reserve ooc asks for mundays unless its pertinent, so keep this in mind!)
i see you there motherfucker. yeah you. i see you. what are you doing here. i TOLD you there are spoilers dude. hitting you with my broom hitting you with my broom hitting you with my broom h
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bonny-kookoo · 2 years ago
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Yoongi: 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬 (Intro)
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In which everything he always wanted has already been there from the start. He just needs to make that final step.
Tags/Warnings: Vampire!Yoongi, Human!Reader, mentions of 'being high' (drug usage in a way), friends to lovers, blood (duh), red haired Yoongi, Listen I am Jungkook focused but I will put Vampire Yoongi on the menu and you'll better finish your plate
Additional Chapter Warnings: blood high= a rush vampires get after consuming blood, nothing graphic though, stereotypes against vampires
Length: Short
Next ->
♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
"Yoongi... I never drink this much!" You whine pitifully, letting him lead you into your apartment where he turns the lights on for you before he closes the door, all while you cling onto him.
"I know." He simply reassures softly, well aware that you really do not actually drink that much. But you're also easily swayed by social pressure - always aiming to please people, especially if you're in a situation that's unfamiliar.
"Those guys were nice though.. why were you so mean to them?" You wonder with anpout while trying to undo the small buckle of your heels with a pout, not having much luck. Yoongi sighs.
He was mean to them- that's the tamest way of describing his words towards the group of vampires that had been filling you up with liquor only to get you weak and complacent for whatever sick and twisted shit they would've done to you later. Yoongi doesn't like that you're so easy to manipulate, but you're an adult and you usually stay away from things like that. But then, your date never showed up, and suddenly it all went downhill from there.
Luckily he texted you, just to make sure you're alright.
"Yoongii-..." you whine his name again when he carries you to to your convertible sofa, pulling out one of the sides because there's no way in hell he can actually get you into your bed like this. He unbuckles your shoes before he takes them off, putting them safely to the side where you can't stumble over them, while you already wiggle around, trying to get comfortable, and that's all fine-
Until you begin to slip out of one of your dresses straps hanging over your shoulder, his hand lighting fast at putting it back where it belongs. "Yoongi~!" You complain, trying to pry his hand off. "I wanna get out of this it's too tight-" You whine, and he sighs.
Too tight is right. The way it stretches over your behind and chest is sinful to say the least, making him shake his head as he forces himself not to look at your cleavage.
"I know love, but-" He sighs, realizing there is no other way to help, really. "I'll help you out alright?" He shakes his head, especially when you happily nod, as he puts a blanket from the side of the sofa over your shoulders, holding it shut. "Now you can get out of it." He instructs calmly, still averting his gaze though as to not catch any glimpse of you by accident. Only when the dress hits the floor does he swallow thickly, painfully aware just how almost naked you are underneath the blanket that he's holding. He could drop it now, paint it as an accident-
But he won't take advantage of you like that.
You and Yoongi are connected by technically less than fortunate events- his first blood high a horrible experience as he'd been left alone with his emotions and everything because the person he was with simply didn't care about anything but their own pleasure. He felt disgusting, used, and ever since then he'd never bitten anybody ever again, strictly sticking to his monthly schedule of getting pre-packaged and measured amounts of blood from Banks.
But what did that have to do with you?
Well, you found him when he was at his lowest, no job, no future, uncaring of anything any longer. He had nothing to his name, and yet, you bought him something to eat walked him home like a lost dog, and gave him your number just to make sure he'd be alright. And all that after having been attacked by a vampire not even a week prior, as you would reveal to him a few months later.
It made him awfully protective of you.
As he lets you pull a shirt over your head that he fetched from your bedroom (he just grabbed whatever was still on your bed, he'd never dare roam around in your closet because God have mercy on him if he stumbled over your underwear- that'll surely give him wet dreams like he's nothing but a boy stuck in puberty for sure), he makes sure to leave the bathroom door open in case you'd get sick later tonight- when you pull on his sleeve.
"Hm?" He looks down at you, where your gaze is distant.
Before you smile in an almost somber manner. "You won't stay- even if I ask, right?" You wonder, and he sighs.
"You're drunk." He argues softly.
"I know, I know.." you shake your head, letting go of him.
He knows he likes you as more than a friend. He really did fall in love with you along the way. But considering how your friendship started- he feels like it would be wrong to ask you out now. You're so sweet all the time- the chance that you'll say yes to him just because you don't want to hurt his feelings is more than just high.
He's almost certain you'd do just that.
And so he waits for you to make a move. Give him a sign. Anything so he knows you do actually like him back.
But how the fuck is he going to know what those signs look like, when all you do already seems to imply that you like him?
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whatdoeseverybodywant · 11 months ago
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You're The Only Girl for Me - Chapter 9
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yes, i did post this already, but I wasn't happy with it so.... 🤷🏽‍♀️
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
Trigger Warning: mentions of domestic violence
All OC Characters belong to me
Series Masterlist
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DECEMBER 28th 2020 - Pensacola FL
Whatchu’  wearin?” Josh asked as he and Airielle were talking on the phone. She looked down at her white long sleeve shirt and jeans and rolled her eyes. “I’m wearing lingerie at the supermarket.” He had flown to Georgia the day after Christmas to spend the rest of the week with his kids. She had thoughts about him and his ex-wife, but she had to remember that she and Josh weren’t technically together, they had gone on a couple of dates but they weren’t exclusive. He was technically a free man and could do what he wanted to.  
“Shit, bet the bag boys are loving that.” She laughed loudly at that, causing people to stare at her. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Awe, You miss me?.” She asked teasingly. 
“Mmhmm.” He hummed. “You know I do.” He paused, “ I told my sons I was seeing someone.” That stopped her. 
“You did?” She asked, surprised. She didn’t know why she was surprised. They had met each other's family already. 
“Yeah, they old enough to understand why me and they mom not together. They want to meet you.” Airielle almost hung the phone up on him and blocked his number. “You still there?” He asked after she didn’t say anything for a full minute. 
“Yeah,” She breathed out. “I would love to meet your kids.” 
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AIRIELLEJONES
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“Wait, he said his kids want to meet you?” Airielle nodded and took a sip of her mimosa. As soon as she got off the phone with Josh, she called her cousins and set up an emergency meeting at their favorite brunch spot. 
“What did you say?” Airielle groaned and put her head in her hands. 
“I lied and said I want to meet them too.” Yasmine and Ashley looked at each other before bursting into laughter. “Shut up.” She said, throwing a piece of toast at each of them. “I panicked. I ain’t know what to say.” Airielle sighed and bit her lip. She was so close to texting Josh and telling him that they were moving too fast. 
Yasmine narrowed her eyes at Airielle. “Don’t you try to run away from that man Airielle.” Airielle opened her mouth but Yas cut her off.  “No, You knew he had kids and you still went on dates with him. Did you think you were never gonna meet them?” Airielle shrugged. 
“I don’t know.” She stressed, throwing her arms up in the air. 
“He ain’t Christopher. And you need to understand that.” Yasmine placed a couple of dollars down on the table before standing up and walking out of the restaurant. 
“She just wants you to be happy, Rih. And from what I seen at Christmas, Josh makes you happy.” Ashley smiled and patted Airielle’s hand before getting up and following Yasmine out of the restaurant. 
“Fuck.” Airielle whispered and placed her head in her hands. 
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JANUARY 1st 2021 - Friday Night Smackdown
Josh was pissed. After he talked to Airielle the other day she had went ghost on him… again. All his calls and text messages went unanswered. He had thought about flying back to Pensacola to pop up on her but decided not to.  He was angry as fuck and didn’t want to say something he regretted. 
The first thing Josh did once he stepped foot into Tropicana Field was go search for Airielle. The last time she went ghost on him was because she was feeling him. And now this time he was sure it was because he brought up his kids. 
“Yo, you seen Airielle?” He asked Kayla as he walked over to her. Kayla looked up from her phone and rolled her eyes. 
“No, I haven’t seen your little girlfriend.” Josh rolled his eyes. He didn’t even know why he asked her bitter ass anything. When he tried to walk away she stopped him by grabbing his arm. “Is that all you have to say to me?”  Josh sucked his teeth and pulled his arm free of her grasp. 
“I ain’t got time for this Kayla.” 
“You haven’t said one word to me since September.  Since Airielle got here.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s like you just threw me to the curb for her.” 
“It was never like that with us and you know it Kay. You and I both know we was drinkin’ that night and one thing led to the other.” 
“So you never felt anything for me?” She felt her eyes water. Kayla was beyond embarrassed. 
“Shit, don’t cry aight? I’m sorry if I made you feel that way okay?”  She nodded but a tear still slipped out her eye and down her cheek. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He said and pulled her into a hug. 
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Airielle felt horrible about avoiding Josh. She knew her cousin was right about Josh not being anything like Christopher but she couldn’t help it. Christopher had put her through hell for six years. From the verbal abuse to the actual domestic abuse that had landed her in the hospital with a broken nose and two broken ribs. 
After she was finished getting her hair and make-up done she decided to go and find Josh to apologize to him. She walked around the arena, checking catering and Joe’s locker room but not finding him. She turned down the corridor that led to the Gorilla and came to a stop as she saw Kayla and Josh hugging. 
“Oh.” Airielle said, making them both look over at her, her eyes bounced between the two of them before she turned around and started walking the way she came from. 
“Airielle wait.” Josh let go of Kayla and went to chase after Airelle.”Lemme explain -”  She sighed and stopped walking and turned to face him. 
“Josh, it’s cool. You don’t have to explain anything.” She said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s not like we were together anyway.” She shrugged 
“Don’t give me that bullshit Rih. You know damn well you my girl.” 
“How? How was I possibly supposed to know that?” She felt her heart rate increase and her palms start to sweat. 
Josh frowned his face up at her. “Am I trippin? You met my family, I met yours and I told you that my kids know about you. You think I tell my kids about just anybody?”  Airielle crossed her arms and looked away from Josh. I need to get outta here. She thought. All she wanted to do was apologize, not get into a debate on whether they were together or not. 
“I was coming to look for you.” He said, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. “I stopped to ask Kayla if she seen you-” 
“Josh, you don’t have to explain anything to me.” He just blinked at her before continuing. 
“And she said she didn't, so I was gonna go on my way. But she wanted to talk about me and her and I had to tell her there was no me and her. She started to cry so I gave her a hug.” He summarized. 
“Look. I gotta go alright? Gotta see what I have to do tonight.” She removed his hand off her face before walking away.
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Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
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intoanotherworld23 · 1 year ago
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Deep Water III
Characters: Will Miller, Ben Miller, Frankie Morales, Santiago Garcia and female reader
Warnings: Impure thoughts, swear words, mention of killings and murder, lots of drinking, shooting
Summary: The Frontier men have to take you to one of their clubs, and that’s a perfect excuse to get drunk
Hearts, reblogs, and comments are greatly encouraged and appreciated! If you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know so I can add you! Thank you all so much! XOXO
Part 2 Part 4
Check out my other works on Hall Of Hunks
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It was incredibly weird sitting in a room with a bunch of mobsters, and yet somehow they looked like normal everyday citizens you'd see walking along the street. They just didn't match the profiles of killers or thugs. You were pretty sure you'd hear all their stories though.
"How long am I going to be here?" They probably didn't know the answer to that anyway but you'd figure you would try and ask.
"Depends on when Will wants to let you go." You didn't like the way Benny said that though it wasn't reassuring that he would even let you go.
"Is he gonna kill me?" Whispering this time as you fiddled with your hands in your lap afraid for the answer.
"He won't kill you." Benny said as he gave you a warm smile. "We can promise you that."
"What if he gets really mad and can't control himself?" You threw on their face as they looked at each other.
"He's not going to kill you babe." Bennys voice a little more stern this time.
"Unless you give him reason to kill you he won't." Frankie leaned forward elbows on his knees hands clasped in front of him.
Not liking the way that he said that at all. What reason would you have to give him to justify him killing you? Surely he wouldn't kill you for simply trying to escape. Everyone who is held against their will or kidnapped tries to escape. That would be a ridiculous reason to end your life.
Then you remembered he mentioned your father and said your last name was keeping you alive. Wondering how he knew your father and why that was so important. You weren't going to stop asking until you got a legit answer.
"He said my last name was keeping me alive." Throwing those words back at them crossing your arms over your chest. "What did he mean by that?"
"We can't tell you that darlin." Benny shrugged his shoulders a sympathetic look on his face. "That's Will's department and should be the one to explain."
"That's bull shit." Raising your voice a little frustrated beyond belief that nobody was telling you anything. "I just don't understand why you guys can't tell me anything."
"Don't worry he'll tell you." Santi responded with a nod. "When the time is right."
Why does the time need to be right? That was such a bull shit answer and reason as to why nobody could tell you, and why it specifically had to be Will. Maybe he knew your father in some way, and something happened between them.
Gasping internally at the thought of Will or his men having to do something with your family's death. If that was the case you'd be more than happy to put a bullet in each of their brains. Then again if they wanted the family dead they would have killed you too.
"So you guys kill people?" Asking no one in particular Santi and Frankie looked at each other for a moment.
"Only if we have to." Benny answered for them making you glance over at him.
"Just like that guy in the alley?" They could sense the cynical tone in your voice making them grin that you weren't as afraid of them as they'd like.
"He knew what the consequences were for dealing with us." Santi responded anyway turning your attention to him.
"So he owed you guys money." You leaned back in the chair trying to figure out the reason they killed him. "And because he didn't have it you guys killed him?"
"Yes." This time Santi looked a little ashamed answering your question.
"Technically Ironhead killed him." Frankie spoke up in defense the corner of your lip twitching. "Just sayin."
Maybe it was just you but Frankie didn't seem like the type of guy to be involved in something like this. He seemed more like the type of guy to be afraid of guys like them. Although you shouldn't judge a book by its cover cause he probably has killed more people than what you'd expect.
"How did Ironhead or whatever become the head guy?" Asking as you looked between the three of them.
"That's a story for another time." Wills voice rang as he descended down the stairs your heads turning to him. "We have to go."
"Where?" Frankie asked as he stood up adjusting his shirt.
"To the club." Grabbing a gun and placing into a holder that was strapped to his hip gulping as you watched him. "Apparently someone doesn't want to cough up what they owe us."
"Is it that Russian guy?" Benny already knew who he was talking about.
"Yeah security spotted him betting money at the poker table." He scoffed loudly as he looked at his phone. "Even though he told me last week he didn't have the money yet."
"Little fucker." It surprised you to hear Frankie talking like that since he'd been so nice to you.
Which probably meant it was just another man whose life they were going to take. It made your skin crawl at the thought of hearing another man beg for his life only to have it ripped from him. Those men they killed most likely had families to go home to. Wives and children that missed them wondering what happened to them.
If you could have avoided being caught you would have ran so quickly your legs would be on fire, and you wouldn't be in this situation. Hearing them justify what they did to other people made you sick to your stomach. This wasn't how normal people should live their lives, and citizens shouldn't live in fear cause of them.
"What about her?" Benny asked pointing at you.
"She comes with us." He said like it was no big deal but your eyes went wide in shock.
"What?" Exclaiming as you stood up looking straight at him but he was refusing to meet your eyes. "Your kidding me right?"
"Will we can't take her with us man." Santi tried to reason with him.
"Yeah that's not something for her to have to watch." Frankie defended his suggestion actually making you feel better they thought about your well being.
"Yeah I'm not going." You stated but nobody was really paying attention to you.
"She's going with us and that's final." Will argued his cheeks turning red making them back up a little.
"You guys can tie me up, lock me in a room whatever." This time they all looked over at you. "But I'm not going with you."
Standing firm putting your foot down in defiance, but Will looked like he wasn't in the mood. Looking over at you finally before stomping his way over to you making you cower back a little from him.
Grabbing your arm roughly in his hand pulling you toward him making you whimper. The rest of the guys stood back not even daring to tell him what to do, but they still felt bad. The feeling of his calloused hands rubbing against your skin was burning.
"I don't have time for your pathetic whiny bitching right now." He sneered at you the veins in his neck popped out. "You are fucking going with us and that's final."
The two of you staring into each other's eyes silently daring you to say something else to piss him off. Raising an eyebrow at you and you lowered your head a little but still kept your eyes locked on his. His lips quirked up into a smirk knowing he won this battle.
It was too soon to be challenging his authority. He seemed like the type of man who didn't like to be tested, and if someone tried to outrank him it would end in blood. You needed to be smart about things, and stay alive as long as you could.
"Well what the hell am I supposed to wear?" Looking down at your clothes feeling these weren't club appropriate. "I'm not going to the club looking like this."
"She does have a point man." Santi agreed with him making you smile. "Our club has a strict dress code."
"She's going to be with us." He growled not liking his men to be agreeing with you so easily.
"Yeah she can't wear jeans to a hot nightclub." Benny stepped in as his eyes looked your body up and down giving you a wink.
"Fine." Throwing his hands up in defeat. "We have spare clothes upstairs."
"Yeah I'm not wearing clothes that your sluts left over." You argued making them all laugh leaving you confused.
"Either you wear the sluts clothes," Will spoke as he stepped closer to you, "or wear nothing at all."
"I wouldn't mind the latter though."
Your mouth about dropped to the floor with his challenging words. Surely he wouldn't make you go to a club with no clothes on they weren't complete animals. Judging by the look on his face though he wasn't playing.
Benny and Santi seemed to also like that idea as they chuckled. A part of you wanted to say wear nothing at all just to see their reaction, but you were afraid that he was dead serious on making you go naked.
"Asshole." Grumbling under your breath as this time he smiled in your defeat.
"Fish show her where the clothes are." Will ordered him as Frankie walked up to you and placed a soft hand on your lower back leading you upstairs.
As he led you to a room you saw a bed and dresser, and that was it. It looked like someone had lived in this room, but there was literally nothing in here. Frankie could see the confused look on your face.
"There are no sluts clothing here." He teased as you just rolled your eyes at him. "By the way."
"This was Yovanna's room." Frankie informed you raising an eyebrow at him wondering who she was. "She's in the hospital in a coma."
"We took all her stuff down so we didn't have to look at it." Frankie looking down at his feet noticing his eyes started to water knowing she must have meant something to him. "We left her clothes though."
"Just in case." He nudged your shoulder with a smile this time causing you to smile back at him.
"What happened to her?" Asking him hoping you weren't going to upset him in any way.
"She was shot a couple times and she just never woke up." Turning to look away from Frankie as you pictured what this woman's room probably looked like.
She was probably a very tough woman to be living with four other men, and she was also most like ridiculously gorgeous too. Or was clinically insane and hated herself so much to the point she would live this life.
Either way it seemed like her story was something he didn't want to discuss. Which most likely means none of the other guys would want to talk about it either.
"Come on let's find you something." Nodding towards the closet opening it to see it was full of all kinds of clothing. "Pretty sure you guys are the same size."
"What about this?" He held up a crop top and matching black leather skirt as you looked at him raising an eyebrow.
"Uh yeah I don't think so." Tossing that to the side he started to rummage through some more things before he settled on a black dress.
"This would look amazing on you." It was plain black with spaghetti straps and it looked really cute.
"Okay fine I'll wear that." Grabbing it from his hands as you placed it on the bed going to take your shirt off when you noticed him standing there still. "Do you mind?"
"Gotta stay here with you so you don't escape." Shrugging his shoulders with an apologetic look on his face. "I'll turn around."
Which he did keeping his back fully towards you as you quickly stripped off your other clothes, and slipped on the black dress. It was snug against your hips, and the ends of the dress went down to about your mid thigh.
The push up bra you were wearing had your cleavage nearly spilling out of the neck line. This dress felt like it was made for you, and you looked incredibly hot in it. You were wearing black boots which wouldn't have been your first choice, but it still fit with the outfit.
"Holy shit." Scratching the back of his neck as he looked your body up head to toe his whole face turning red. "You look amazing."
"Thanks." Wiping your hands down the side of the dress as you gave him a weak smile.
"Alright let's go."
Walking down the steps all three heads looked up to see you standing at the bottom of the steps like you were some kind of mythical creature. Santi had his mouth partially open in shock, while Benny licked his lips like you were something sweet. Then there was Will.
Clenching his hands into fists by his side as he tried to control his breathing. If the other guys were there he would have grabbed you so quickly and bent your over the railing. You were the best damn looking woman he has ever seen, and that dress made you look mysterious and seductive.
"God damn you look scrumptious." Benny groaned as he placed a fist up to his mouth.
"You're wearing that dress all the time." Santi agreeing with Benny as they began acting like horny teenage boys.
Looking down at your feet as all the men continued to drool over you. Frankie awkwardly coughed to snap them out of their day dreaming of what you probably looked like under neath those clothes. Looking back at him mouthing a quick thank you to him.
It made you feel good about yourself for a split second, but then you remembered where you were, and what kind of people you were surrounded by.
"Fuck let's go." Will groaned as he grabbed the keys and one by one you all headed out the door.
Will was struggling to control his hormones, and could feel himself getting hard picturing you in that dress. If the other men weren't here he'd already have you pinned against the wall with your dress bunched up around your hips, and his fingers touching you.
Shaking those vivid images from his mind of what you would look like underneath him moaning his name. He was never the type of guy to let a woman make him feel things. The other guys were most likely thinking that too.
As you piled into the car you were smushed between Benny and Frankie. Santi took his place in the drivers seat and once again Will took his seat in the passenger. You were going to have to figure out why he did that. It seemed weird he didn't want to drive.
For the first time since last night you were feeling good about yourself. You kind of felt powerful with how you made the boys act with how you dressed. Dress like that more often and you could probably walk away without a scratch. Although you were pretty positive you'd have better chance just trying to escape.
"Let's move." Will ordered as the rest of you got out to see a huge line waiting outside the club waiting to get in.
Looking at the club that had green and black lights shining down, and a neon sign that said Venom. There was multiple security guards standing outside, and once they saw your group they all stepped aside letting them by greeting each other with nods.
Guess the one good thing about being around them was getting into clubs without having to pay or wait outside with everyone else. Nobody dared to even groan either as they were let him probably knowing exactly who they were. Getting glares from the other women who looked at you with jealousy.
Walking through the doors there was strobe lights flickering all around the club. The dance floor was packed with sweating bodies, and the bar lined up with pretty woman chatting up desperate men. On another side it looked like there was gambling tables, and VIP booths. Assuming that was where they man they were looking for is.
You could feel a hand wrap around your waist looking from your side view to see that it was Will. The hand that was now applying pressure to your skin was starting to tingle. He didn't seem phased at all meanwhile you were panting and sweating by just a single touch.
"You want anything to drink?" Placing his lips almost on your ear as you all sat in a huge booth gated off from everybody else.
"Uh yeah I'll take whatever." Shouting over the music making him chuckle.
He motioned to a woman who was clearly the bottle service saying something to her as she nodded with a grin. Next thing you knew watched multiple women came heading towards the table wearing lingerie with a liquor bottle in each hand. The middle of the table had glasses, and buckets of ice along with stuff to mix in your drink if you needed it.
This was going to be your excuse to get hammered and try to forget everything that happened over the last twenty four hours. Maybe if they got drunk enough they'd forget about you, and you could walk out of here.
"Let me know if you see him." Will informed the guys who put on their laser focus.
Sitting there awkwardly as the rest of the men talked to each other looking towards the dance floor. Will's main focus was to spot the man they were looking for. Chugging back your drink as you began to make another one.
The burn felt good going down your throat. It was already taking its affect as you could feel yourself starting to loosen up. Bobbing your head along to the beat, and swaying your body back and forth catching the attention of Will.
"Found him." You heard him shout over to Benny who nodded placing his drink down.
"Pope come with us." Bradley ordered as he stood up. "Fish stay with her don't let her out of your sight."
"What if I have to pee?" If it wasn't for the alcohol in your system you wouldn't have said that, but it amused everyone but Will.
"Guess you'll have to ruin that dress then." He had an answer for everything huffing as he turned around leaving the booth.
Frankie nodded as he scooted closer to you watching the three men disappear walking towards the mini casino area. Frankie already knew what was about to probably go down, meanwhile you had a very vague idea what was about to happen.
"You might want to slow down." He suggested as he watched you pouring yourself another glass of straight liquor. "We have all night."
"I don't care I need this." Shaking your glass back and forth as you tossed it back with no problem this time.
"The hangover won't be worth it." He was trying to reason with you but you didn't want to hear it.
"Whatever." None of them had a right to tell you how you should feel or react to things.
"You'll still be with us tomorrow." This time he was being realistic and wanted you to realize there was no getting out of this no matter what you did or said.
"You think I don't know that." Snapping at him feeling your blood boiling. "Why the fuck do you think I'm trying to get drunk?"
"Alright okay you've made your point." Putting his hands up in surrender not wanting to make you anymore angry.
You really didn't want to yell at Frankie like that, but with all these emotions you were feeling you couldn't help it. One minute they could be doing everything to keep you alive, and the next then having you dig your own grave while they shoot you in the head.
There was no way you'd still be here with them if your father was alive. He'd have them all arrested or shot the minute they put their hands on you. Wishing now that he was still alive so you could be back in the comfort of your own house and bed.
"He's not all bad you know." You didn't need to hear a name to know who he was talking about.
"You have to say that he's your boss." Shaking your head at him not in the mood to hear his excuses for him.
"Actually I'm saying that cause he's not just my boss but my friend." Looking over at Frankie this time with a defiant look on your face.
"Could have fooled me." Cocking your head to the side as you poured yourself another shot.
"He really isn't." Scoffing at him as you looked over to the gambling tables unable to see them. "Once you get to know him at least."
"I don't want to get to know him." Before Frankie could say anything shots rang out in the club making everyone scream.
Rough hands grabbing you as he pulled you into him and shielding you from any bullets. Your body was frozen and you felt the full weight of terror strike your body. Trying not to cry as the possibility of death floated in your mind.
You've been around guns before and heard them go off, but it was never in a public place where you knew dangerous men were. In that moment all you wanted was your family, and to hold them and have them tell you everything was going to be alright.
Wondering who was firing and who was hit? Watching as the patrons scattered like little bugs that felt danger, and didn't want to be in the cross hairs of whoever was firing.
"Fucking get her." Was all you heard before someone else grabbed you.
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twiniverse · 5 months ago
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Temple Redesign for Twiniverse fan project thingy
Since I'm redoing a lot of old pages, it's probably time to update the Temple Fusion. Considering it's just an Obsidian made with Rose, Pearl, Jasper, Peridot, and Lapis... and then I just took out Jasper's gem and added Amethyst and Ruby... that's kind of boring. She's beautiful imo but she's just not unique to Twiniverse.
Sooooo I'm going to be redesigning her. And her name will be Onyx, based on black onyx with white and golden markings. She'll have some kind of crown that has both Pearl and Peridot's gems... and I'm thinking of maybe making her somewhat... cryptid-ish? Like a mothman kind of thing but less... animalistic?
Anyway I'm telling y'all this because... I am not good at designing monsters lol. That's a big reason I didn't redesign Obsidian to begin with. Soooooooooo what I'm gonna do is I'm gonna ask you guys for ideas.
This is not a contest. There will be no prizes. But I WILL reblog every "entry" and show them off later in a livestream.
Just kind of a fun thing. I most likely won't choose any one design, it will just really help me solidify a design by having lots of new ideas from fans!
All you need to do is make a post with your ideas, which can be something you've drawn or just a bunch of reference pictures and a description of what you think Onyx would look like. She does NOT have to be based on Obsidian or the Twiniverse Obsidian. She also does NOT have to have any design components I mentioned above (the crown, the cryptid thing, etc). Just whatever you personally feel like the fusion would look like =)
@ me in the post and tag it 'twiniverse' and I'll add it to a list of all the ideas I've got! And when I start getting the feeling I've gotten an idea of what the final product will be I will do a livestream and feature all of the suggestions as I work on the concepts for Onyx.
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Just as a reminder, here are the five components! (Technically six lol). The outfits aren't important, so don't feel like you have to tick too close to them. And, just in case you want it, here's the OG Twiniverse Temple, but remember any design you might have does NOT need to be based off of this.
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I just thought this all would be fun! Something to let people feel like they're apart of Twiniverse in some way. I understand that without prizes a lot of people won't want to join, and that's completely fine. I get it! And I won't be upset whether I get "entries" or not.
Thank you all once again for your patience and all that jazz. I'm trying to still be active even while I'm swamped with a million other things, and throwing myself into Art Fight on top of it, lol. Love all my followers! See you soooooon!
(AND IF I DON'T GIVE YOUR POST A LIKE/REBLOG AFTER A FEW DAYS PLEASE MESSAGE ME, I MAY HAVE MISSED IT. The like will signify it's in a queue)
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fe-smashorpass · 8 months ago
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Introduction! (Please Read)
Inspired by other smash or pass blogs, this one is about Fire Emblem characters!
My name is Mod Garn and I use she/her!
Will only be posting characters who are 18+ but since this is Fire Emblem not everyone has a canon age. Even if they do, a character's age can be called into question (here’s another post I made on this topic). TL;DR I'll be arbitrarily judging a character if they look old enough for this. If you think a character should or shouldn't be here, I am sorry.
I will be doing almost every character in the franchise, including from the mainline and spin-off games, one off generics, the cipher exclusives, and manga exclusives.
Also I am splitting up characters who are technically the same character but under different identities.
Characters that will be excluded are:
underage characters (as mentioned before)
characters without a decent (or any) picture of them
Characters who share the same portrait as each other since that will be redundant
Generic portraits for classes, so if a character uses a generic class portrait (ex the 10 elites from fe3h) they won't be included (the only exceptions are Abysskeeper and Gatekeeper)
I'll be posting 3 characters a day, alphabetically, at 12PM EST.
Also thank you to reddit user u/Just_Nefariousness55 for making this post compiling every character in the games. My life was made so much easier because of you.
Also I made this uquiz and I would appreciate it if you took it :)
FAQ under the cut (please read!)
Q. Why? A. Because I can
Q. What’s the age limit of the polls? A. I’d rather not have any underage people rebloging/commenting/liking on the smash or pass polls (for y’all’s safety)
Q. I don't care for the other things on this blog, what are the tags for the smashing or passing? A. #fe smash or pass and #fire emblem smash or pass are the tags used for the actual smash or pass polls, in case you don't care for the random bs I sometimes post on this blog
Q. Why are people smashing/passing X character? A. IDK!!! Maybe to piss people off. Maybe the character is not as hot as you think. Maybe something else. Baseline is… I don’t know!
Q. Can you post X character? A. No, as I've stated before, I post characters alphabetically and certain characters will be excluded due to a multitude of reasons (read above). If you're asking me if I were to smash or pass a certain character, please specify and I will answer.
Q. Can you add a “not attracted to character’s gender” option? A. No I don’t think it’s necessary to have, you can just press “pass” or not vote at all
Q. Why is fe2 Nuibaba your pfp? A. It funni
Q. IDK this character, can I still participate in the poll? A. Sure! You can decide whether to smash or pass just based on looks
Q. Can I explain the reason why I would/wouldn't smash? A. Yes cause I'm nosey
Q. What will happen once you’re finished with all the characters? A. I’ll do the generic portraits for classes and idk what will happen afterwards
Q. Are you a fan of Digimon? A. Yes :}
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